Seungmin’s Wife

the first real summer air slipped through your open balcony door, carrying the sound of cicadas. you were leaning against the kitchen counter, eating berries straight from the bowl and letting the sunlight hit your shoulders. your phone was propped against a jar of honey on speaker, jiyeon’s voice loud enough to fill the apartment.

your phone was on speaker, propped against a jar of honey. jiyeon’s voice poured out loud enough to fill the apartment.

“do you realize,” she said, “that this is the first summer in three years that doesn’t start with a rain delay?”

you laughed, plucking a raspberry from the bowl and popping it into your mouth. 

“i’ve decided this is going to be our golden season. sun, iced coffee in the dugouts, can you imagine?” she said with a happy sigh. 

you grinned, setting the bowl down beside your laptop. “you sound like an ad.”

“good! because i’m feeling inspired. the guys are actually behaving for once, and the forecast says nothing but blue skies.” she paused for dramatic effect. “also, did you see the stadium flowers near the dome are blooming again?”

you hummed softly, half listening, half watching how the sunlight touched the glass vase on your counter. you’d filled it yesterday with cheap peonies from the grocery store that were at least bright enough to make your apartment look alive.

“they’re pink this year,” jiyeon went on, “and not that weird fluorescent pink either. like a classy pink. whoever’s in charge of landscaping needs to get their ass ate. please pass it on.”

you smiled, nudging a stray petal that had fallen onto the counter. “i will,” you said, even though you probably wouldn’t. you liked that she thought you had that kind of power.

you leaned your hip against the counter, eyes drifting toward the open balcony door. the air was bright and lazy, carrying the smell of cut grass and something faintly sweet.

“anyway,” jiyeon said, her tone softening, “how’s your day off going? i’m picturing you doing laundry again. you get one day off and decide to act like a mom of three.”

you rolled your eyes, biting into a strawberry. “excuse you, i’m eating fruit.”

“wow,” she deadpanned. 

you laughed, tipping your head back against the cabinet. “you’re just jealous of my balanced lifestyle.”

“balanced?” jiyeon said. “you need to go outside, maybe flirt with a barista, get a little sunlight, maybe—oh, i don’t know—get a boyfriend?”

you scoffed, reaching for another berry. “you’re one to talk. you’ve hated every man i’ve tried to set you up with.”

“it’s quality control,” jiyeon said. “you, on the other hand, are practically married and still waiting for him to make it official. honestly, y/n, seungmin’s a villain.”

“a villain?”

“yes! how has he not asked you yet?”

you sighed, pushing the bowl away. “because he’s busy, jiyeon. he just released that new song, remember? lose my breath or something…anyways he’s been at the company every night for the next album—”

“okay, okay,” she cut in, her voice rising an octave. “blah blah artistic genius, creative process, you’ve told me all of it before. but i’m sorry, if he can find time to sing with charlie puth, he can find time to take you somewhere and ask a question.”

you sighed, dragging your thumb along the rim of the berry bowl. “we can’t go out, jiyeon.”

“oh right,” she said flatly. “because he’s famous. god forbid the world sees him with an actual woman instead of pretending he’s dating his fans.”

“jiyeon,” you warned.

“what?” she snapped. “you know i’m right. it’s ridiculous. he’s just too busy making sure twelve year olds keep calling him ‘husband.’”

“jiyeon,” you said again, this time scoffing.

she groaned. “don’t tell me you’re okay with this, y/n. i swear to god, if i were you, i’d have ripped that man’s perfect eyebrows off by now.”

“i’m not okay with it. i just—what am i supposed to do? of course i wish he wasn’t the seungmin sometimes. but he’s doing great balancing me and his career. and if i love him, i’m not making him choose.”

the words slipped out before you could stop them. 

you blinked. “did i just say that out loud?”

“oh my god,” jiyeon breathed.

“i love him.” you whispered, your hand covering your mouth. 

there was a beat of silence before jiyeon exhaled sharply. “yeah, we can tell.”

the line went still again. outside, the cicadas droned on, steady and endless. you looked toward the balcony, the sunlight already fading to that early-evening gold. for a second, it felt like the whole summer was balanced on that thin, glowing line between wanting and waiting.

jiyeon’s voice, when it came back, was softer. “you don’t have to pretend this is fine.”

“i know.” you stared at the sunlight bleeding across your counter, the bowl of half-eaten berries.

“so push it a little,” jiyeon said. “you don’t have to demand a ring or some grand gesture, but the least he can do is give you reassurance that you two are at least something.”

you let out a small breath. “you’re right.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

there was a pause before jiyeon spoke again, softer than before. “you deserve to be sure of him.”

you swallowed, pushing the bowl away and leaning on the counter. 

“maybe i’ll bring it up when he comes over,” you said quietly.

“good,” jiyeon said. “and if he tries to dodge the conversation, tell him to grow a pair.”

you laughed, the sound slipping out before you could stop it. you were about to answer when the doorbell rang. the sound was sudden, bright, and a little too perfectly timed.

jiyeon gasped dramatically. “look at that. speak of the devil.”

you rolled your eyes. “bye, jiyeon.”

“bye,” she echoed, and you could hear the smile in her voice before the line went dead.

you walked toward the door, the floor creaked once under your feet. you twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

a tall figure stood on the other side, head bent slightly under the brim of a black cap. a mask covered most of his face.

“ma’am, i’m gonna have to ask you to hand over all your valuables.”

you took a step closer, raising an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible robber, seungmin. you’re supposed to have a weapon, you know, or at least a menacing posture.”

he tilted his head slightly, mask crinkling as he grinned underneath. “you think you could do better?”

“obviously,” you said, stepping aside to let in. 

seungmin shut the door behind him, still keeping his serious tone. “i’m new to the business. thought i’d start with something easy.”

“i’m easy?” you echoed, raising a brow. 

“you can’t fight back, can’t even remember to lock your door.”

you blinked, pretending to look offended. “how do you know i didn’t lock it?”

“you didn’t even touch the lock when you opened the door. i would’ve heard it.” he said, stepping closer, eyes glinting under the brim of his cap. 

you rolled your eyes. “wow sherlock.”

“here—” he reached past you, fingers brushing the door. “you twist it like this, see?”

“yeah, i know how to lock a door,” you said.

he gave a quiet laugh and tugged the cap off, shaking his hair loose. his hair fell messily over his forehead, dark strands catching the sunlight from the hallway. 

“sure you do,” he said, tone lazy and amused. you could feel his breath when he spoke again, lower now. “and you really shouldn’t let just anyone in.”

you swallowed hard. “you’re not just anyone.”

his smile turned faintly smug, but there was something gentler underneath it too.

“good answer,” he said.

before you could say something back, he closed the space between you. his hand found your back, pulling you gently toward him. he leaned down, lips meeting yours in a kiss. you breathed in sharply, your hands finding his chest, steadying yourself against him. his breath caught, a low sound in his throat, and when he pulled back, it was only far enough to murmur against your lips.

“why do you taste so good?”

you giggled against his mouth, and he was already kissing you again. that bright sound made him grin through the kiss, and then he was chasing it, pressing little pecks. 

“maybe because i was just eating berries,” you whispered, laughing again when he kissed you mid-sentence.

“mm, makes sense,” he said, pretending to think about it, though his lips were already back on yours. “sweet, addictive.”

you smacked his arm lightly, still smiling. “it’s not right to describe me like a snack.”

he grinned, eyes half-lidded, breath brushing your cheek. “can’t help it.”

you broke the kiss just long enough to turn and pull him with you toward the living room. he followed without protest, still kissing the side of your face every few steps like he couldn’t stop himself. 

when you reached the couch, you gave him a gentle push, and he sank into the cushions, his hands finding your hips as you straddled him. his cap was long forgotten somewhere near the door, and his hair had fallen into his eyes. you reached up to brush it back, but he caught your wrist gently and kissed the inside of it first.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he said quietly, almost as an afterthought, “i didn’t check my phone all day. i went out the door right after my schedule ended. i didn’t read any of your texts.”

your stomach dropped.

you stilled a little in his lap, your breath catching for reasons that had nothing to do with his hands or mouth this time.

“oh,” you said, trying not to look too alarmed, “well maybe don’t check it now.”

“…what?” he asked, already fishing into his back pocket.

you shook your head quickly. “nothing. it’s—it’s nothing. it doesn’t matter now that you’re here.”

that only made his eyes narrow. “really? because you’re making a face.”

“i’m not doing any face.”

“you’re absolutely making a face.”

“seungmin,” you said, voice pitching up a little as you watched him unlock his phone, "please just don’t,” you muttered, hiding your face in your hands.

he ignored you.

the silence stretched a moment as he scrolled, then tapped.

then you heard his breath catch.

“oh,” he said softly, the syllable drawn out.

your heart was in your throat. you peeked through your fingers.

his eyes were fixed on the screen, and the corner of his mouth was twitching up, slow and deliberate. he read your text again, and you could tell exactly where he was just by his face.

“‘please come quick. i’ll suck the soul out of you, minnie,’” he quoted, voice quiet, amused. his gaze slid up to meet yours again. he just let the words hang between you. 

you let out a long, pained groan and buried your face into his shoulder. 

he laughed, breath warm against your hair. “someone was feeling bold.”

“i didn’t think you’d read it out loud.”

“they’re your words, not mine.” his hand came up, fingers sifting gently through your hair as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes still gleaming with that wicked little tilt. “you sounded pretty desperate.”

you straightened a little, trying to salvage whatever dignity you had left. “i wasn’t desperate, i was just exaggerating to get your hopes up.”

he raised an eyebrow. “my hopes up?”

“yes,” you said firmly. “obviously.”

he laughed once, soft and disbelieving. “you’re so full of it.”

“i’m not full of it!” you snapped, cheeks burning even hotter now.

“you are,” he said, leaning back against the couch like he was settling into a throne. “you’re lying straight to my face.”

“i’m not lying.”

“you’re lying.”

“i’m not!”

his hands slid a little lower on your hips, his fingers tightening just enough to make your breath catch. “you know what gives you away?”

“nothing gives me away,” you snapped back.

he smiled slow, a little cruel and way too amused. “you can’t even look at me.”

you froze, eyes flicking everywhere but his. the floor. the couch cushion. his shoulder. anywhere that wasn’t your beautiful man smiling beneath you.

“i can look at you,” you said, but your voice sounded thin.

“then do it,” he said, reaching up to tip your chin toward him with one finger.

you tried. you really did.

but your gaze skittered off his again like your body refused to cooperate.

his laugh was soft and unfairly pleased. “see? full of it.”

your face was still pressed into his shoulder, heat crawling up your neck. “oh my god, fine,” you muttered, voice muffled. “i was horny. i was losing my mind. i was just—i don’t know. i wanted you to come over faster.”

“oh, you wanted me fast?” he said, eyes narrowing just a little. “was it that urgent?”

you groaned and buried your face in his shoulder again. “oh my goodness, you’re the worst.”

a laugh came out of him bright and sharp.

“i try to be sexy for once and you laugh at me. do you know how humiliating that is?” you said, voice muffled against his shirt. 

“i’m sorry,” he said, which would’ve been more convincing if it hadn’t come out with him trying to bite back a smile. “i really am—baby, you’re perfect, i just—”

you huffed, pushing against his chest, wiggling like you were going to climb off his lap. “i’m gonna go sit on the other couch.”

before your foot could even touch the floor, his hands gripped your arm and he hauled you right back onto him like you weighed nothing. you landed with a soft gasp, hands bracing on his chest.

“no,” he said immediately.

you blinked at him, scoffing. “what do you mean no?”

“you’re not going anywhere.”

“why?” you challenged, even though your body didn’t actually resist him. “so you can laugh in my face again?”

he didn’t even flinch at your tone, if anything, his grip tightened.

“so you can follow through with your words,” he said simply.

your breath stalled.

“baby, you don’t send texts like that and then run to the other couch. you think i’m letting you go anywhere until you tell me whether you plan to actually do what you said?”

your stomach flipped hard. you swallowed, trying to find your voice. 

“do you plan to?” he asked, leaning in a little. 

your heart was pounding in your throat, words piling up behind your teeth, most of them wildly inappropriate. 

“of course,” you whispered. “why wouldn’t i?”

his eyes darkened.

“you sure?” he asked softly.

you nodded once. “i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t mean it.”

a slow smile touched the corner of his mouth. his thumb traced once along your jaw, deliberate enough that your breath stuttered.

“that’s good to know,” he murmured with a smirk, “for the next time you try to lie your way out of things.”

your eyes narrowed a little. 

his hand slid up, fingers threading gently but firmly through your hair, guiding your face toward his as his lips crashed into yours without another word.

you made a soft, startled sound, all your protest melting into heat the second his mouth moved over yours. he kissed you like he’d run out of patience. his tongue brushed against yours, breath mingling as he swallowed every tiny noise you made.

one of his hands stayed at the back of your head, keeping you close, fingers curling slightly like he didn’t trust you not to pull away again. the other hand slid down your side, grounding you, keeping you flush against him like he needed every part of you touching him right now.

your fingers twisted into his shirt, pulling him even closer, tilting your head to chase the kiss deeper. you felt him groan and he kissed you harder for it, tongue slipping past your lips again, lazy and warm and deep. you whimpered against his mouth, your hips squirming just enough in his lap to make both of you feel it.

he looked down at you, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, and then he leaned his head back slightly with a hiss through his teeth.

you glanced down instinctively. he was hard. obviously hard. pressing firm and unmistakable against the front of his sweats, the outline straining under you as your hips shifted. the moment your body grazed over it again, even the slightest friction, he let out this low sound that shot straight through you. his fingers flexed on your hip when you shifted again, and he let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, strained and teasing at the same time.

“yeah,” he said quietly, “you feel that, don’t you?”

your face warmed instantly. “hard not to when you’re basically poking me with it.”

“poking you?” he repeated, eyes hooded and amused. “that's what we’re calling it now?”

you rolled your eyes, breath shaky. “well, what do you want me to call it?”

his hand slid from your hip to your waist, fingers dragging in a way that made your stomach clench. “i can think of a few things,” he said. “none of them are very polite.”

you scoffed softly. “since when do you care about polite?”

he leaned back against the couch, eyes never leaving yours, hands still on your waist. “stop talking and get to work, y/n.”

your mouth stayed open for a second, breath stalled. your thoughts snapped into a frantic, mess. your fingers curled around his shoulders without meaning to. you kissed him one more time, soft and quick, then slid off his lap and down between his legs, your knees hitting the rug in front of the couch without a second thought.

the second you looked up at him, his whole body went still.

he was gone.

totally wrecked, already, and you hadn’t even touched him yet. it was just your gaze. the way you looked at him from there.

“fuck,” he breathed, like the sight alone knocked the air out of his lungs. his fingers twitched on his thighs, like he was physically restraining himself from grabbing you right then and there. 

you smiled softly, tilting your head just enough that your hair fell to one side. 

his eyes dragged over you slowly. your lips were plush and damp from his kisses, and he could already see the heat rising behind your sweet expression.

he ran a hand through his hair, letting his head fall back for a moment before looking down at you again.

“i hate you so much.”

you giggled, soft and wicked and so delighted by it, like it was the best compliment you’d ever gotten.

“no you don’t,” you said, your hands resting on his thighs like you hadn’t just shattered every molecule of self-control he had left.

he stared down at you, jaw working like he was trying not to smile—but the corner of his mouth betrayed him anyway, twitching up. “i really do,” he muttered. “you’re such a pain in the ass.”

you tilted your head at him like you didn’t understand what he meant, like you had absolutely no idea how much power you were holding in your hands. 

“i’m not a pain,” you whispered, leaning in, lips brushing soft against his upper thigh.

“you’re worse,” he muttered, but his hand gripped the cushion beside him now, like he needed something to anchor him.

you smiled, lips curving against his leg, and kissed higher. your hands slid up along the tops of his thighs, fingertips barely skimming the fabric of his sweats, and when your lips finally reached the shape of him beneath it, you pressed the lightest kiss there too.

his head fell back with a groan he didn’t even try to hold in. his hand came up, threading into your hair again.

“you’re the only one who gets me like this,” he muttered, voice rough, almost quiet like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

your smile deepened. “i know.”

you kissed him again through the fabric, this time slower, more deliberately, and then finally your hands slid to the waistband of his sweats.

he twitched beneath your touch.

you looked up at him through your lashes, silently asking.

he nodded once, already breathless. “go on.”

your fingers curled into the elastic, and you tugged it down just enough, slow and careful and unbearably gentle. his cock sprang free, flushed and hard. you wrapped your fingers around him with a touch so light it made his hips jerk. he looked down at you, stunned, like you were both a blessing and a curse in the same breath.

“you’re really gonna keep looking at me like that,” he muttered, eyes locked on yours, “and still not put that pretty mouth to work?”

you blinked up at him innocently, lips barely brushing the tip of him where your fingers still held him light and teasing. “i’m savoring.”

“you’re torturing me.”

you giggled, sweet and soft, still barely moving, still just letting your breath ghost across the head of him. the way he swelled in your hand told you everything you needed to know.

“do it already.” his thumb brushed your cheek, but his voice was rough now. “or i will lose my fucking mind.”

his thumb pressed just under your jaw, a subtle tilt until your lips parted further, your breath already warm and sweet against the tip of his cock. his fingers curled tighter in your hair. 

you let your lips brush down the side of him, soft and slow, your tongue just barely grazing as you kissed lower, dragging along the vein underneath with a deliberate wet stripe. his thighs tensed under your hands. he exhaled sharply through his nose.

you smiled faintly, dragging the flat of your tongue all the way up this time, swirling around the head with practiced care, your lips plush and glossy, teasing the slit just enough to hear him hiss through clenched teeth.

“stop playing,” he warned, but his grip flexed, pulling you just a little closer. “i’m not in the mood to be teased—”

you cut him off by taking him into your mouth, letting him slide past your lips until your mouth was over him and your eyes fluttered shut. the taste of him spread thick across your tongue, familiar and perfect. you held him there, lips snug around him, your throat already working.

he groaned. “shit. that’s it, baby. just like that.”

your fingers curled into his thighs, your nails pressing lightly through the fabric as you swallowed around him, your throat contracting against the tip. that sound made him curse under his breath and tug your hair back just slightly so he could see your face.

your eyes were watering, drool already beginning to gloss your lower lip, mouth stuffed full and throat taking him so deep he swore his vision blurred.

“don’t stop.” he muttered, dragging his thumb along your cheekbone, then gripping tight at the back of your head. 

you didn’t.

you eased off just enough to suck harder on the head, your cheeks hollowing as you worked your tongue along the underside, then sank back down, letting him hit the back of your throat. his hips bucked just a little. your saliva spilled from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin and wetting your hand where it gripped him. you took him again and again, your throat contracting like you were swallowing him whole.

his fingers tangled tighter in your hair, nails grazing your scalp as he forced your head down, holding you still with a low grunt. "that’s it. you're gonna let me use your throat, yeah? that’s what it’s for." 

you moaned around him, the vibration making him shudder, and bobbed your head deeper, faster. his cock hit the back of your throat with each thrust, your gag reflex twitching and burning, but you didn’t slow down. he watched you like he wanted to burn a hole through you, one hand tight in your hair, the other coming up, curling beneath your jaw—then pinching your nose shut.

you jolted, a whimper gagged around him as air was cut off instantly. he cooed, seeing you get lightheaded. you blinked up at him, tearing up fast now, your throat tightening, lungs starting to ache as you tried to hold out. he looked so entertained by the way your face twisted, jaw trembling around his length, throat contracting around him. his hips jerked once.

you sucked in a harsh, broken breath through it. you pulled back, coughing, panting

“fuck you,” you rasped, voice shredded.

“i’m sorry,” seungmin chuckled. 

you groaned, eyes rolling as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “you’re so full of shit,” you grumbled, but you were already leaning in again. he hissed through his teeth when your lips brushed over the head, tongue flicking at the slit.

you looked up again, lips stretched around his cock, cheeks shiny, eyes glossy. and then you pulled back again with a soft pop.

“you’re not gonna last, seungmin,” you murmured, voice wrecked and sticky with spit. “you’re already twitching.”

he dragged you back down with a grunt, both hands gripping your hair now. “then shut up and finish the job.”

you dropped your jaw and let him guide you, pace firm and fast now, head moving with every pass of your lips over him. he panted above you, mouth parted, hair falling into his eyes as he stared down at you like you were dragging his soul out with every stroke of your tongue.

he yanked you back by the hair and the motion made let out a moan. your chest heaved, breath shaky, mouth glistening, a slick thread of spit still connecting you to the base of him. his grip stayed tight, keeping your head tilted back so your eyes met his.

“tongue out,” he rasped.

you obeyed instantly, lips parting, tongue sliding out over your lower lip, trembling slightly as your breath hitched. 

“stay there,” he muttered, and with that, he repeatedly slapped the head of his cock against it.  “yeah, just like that, don’t move.”

you kept your tongue out, eyes locked on him as he pumped himself with his hand. then he exhaled through his teeth, and came with thick, hot ropes spilling across your tongue and into you throat.

he didn’t look away once, watching you take every drop. his other hand slid around your jaw, thumb smearing what dripped down, his breath still ragged.

when he finally loosened his grip on your hair, you swallowed once, then looked up at him through heavy lashes, tongue sliding out for him to see.

“look at you,” he murmured, voice a low rasp that sounded more like awe than command. 

you blinked up at him, the faintest smile ghosting over your swollen lips. he brushed his thumb across the corner of your mouth, catching a bit of what had spilled there, and pressed it back against your lower lip.

“open,” he whispered. you did, and he slid his thumb in, letting you suck the taste from it. “good girl.”

seungmin's breath stuttered, his hand moving from your mouth to cradle your cheek, thumb tracing under your eye where the tears had dried and left a faint tacky sheen. his other hand released the tangle of your hair, smoothing over your scalp as if to soothe the same spot he’d gripped so hard just moments before.

“you okay?” he murmured, softer now. his knuckles brushed your cheekbone, brushing away a bit of stray moisture. 

“mhm.” your voice was barely there, and it made him huff out a breath, more smile than laugh. his fingers threaded through the back of your hair again.

he sank back against the couch, chest still rising in slow, heavy breaths. you climbed up, as he tugged the waistband of his sweats and boxers back into place. you settled beside him, legs folded up on the couch, shoulder pressing against his arm. his hand came up, sliding along your thigh, rough fingertips tracing soft skin.

“let me take care of you, yeah?” he murmured. i’ll make you feel good, baby.”

you blinked up at him, lips still swollen, cheeks flushed with warmth. you shook your head a little, breath catching in a tiny, nervous laugh. “no, it’s okay. later,” you whispered, voice small, soft.

he stilled, thumb stroking your skin. “you sure?” his gaze softened. 

“yea, i just… i like this, right now. just you.”

later that night, the lotte giants game played quietly on the tv in your bedroom. seungmin shifted just enough to slide down the headboard, settling into a comfortable angle. you were lying on him under the duvet, your back pressed to his chest. the game murmured in the corner of the room, bright commentary softened to a low hum. 

you’d showered earlier. your hair was damp and clean, and seungmin kept kissing the top of your head without thinking, lips brushing the crown of it again and again. every time he pressed one, he lingered a moment.

his arm wrapped around your waist, hand splayed across your stomach, thumb stroking idle shapes through your shirt. you shifted, just a little, settling deeper into him, and he let out a quiet breath.

work had been brutal lately. every time he slipped into the building these days, he felt like he was balancing on a wire. but you were the only thing that didn’t ask anything from him. 

his lips brushed your hair again.

you made a soft sound at the touch, one of those half-asleep hums, and he tightened his arm around you without thinking, pulling you closer until your spine pressed fully against his chest.

he glanced around your bedroom lazily, letting his eyes drift wherever they landed. the shelf near the window had a framed photo of you with the team staff, all of you smiling in a way that came after a twenty-inning win. there were two mini bats propped in a cup—one from a charity game, one from last season’s home opener. a signed ball sat in a clear cube on your dresser, the ink slightly faded.

then his eyes slid a little higher. three jerseys hung neatly on the wall hooks—two from the team, one from an away series you’d traveled for and brought home like a trophy. the cap rack beside them held a lineup of hats.

he didn’t realize how long he’d been staring until something specific caught his eye.

one cap wasn’t like the others.

black, beaten up at the brim, the embroidery worn, the shape unmistakable even from across the room. his old cap. then he blinked once, slow.

“hey… is that my old one?” he murmured.

you opened your eyes halfway. “hm?”

he tilted his chin toward the nightstand. “that hat. the black one. that’s mine, isn’t it? it’s the team i played for in high school.”

you followed his gaze, then nodded sleepily. “yeah. it’s yours. do you want it back?”

he paused. “no. no, i must’ve given it to you.”

“you did,” you said softly. you hesitated, fingers curling around the duvet near your stomach. “at our… um. last game together.”

his entire body tensed as he suddenly remembered. you and him leaving that awful set of seats while keeping your head down. and him slipping that cap over your head because he didn’t want to be seen with you.

you pushed yourself upright slowly, his arm slipping from around you as you sat up. the duvet fell from your waist, and the sudden sweep of cold air hit your bare legs. you shivered once, brushing your hair from your face before sliding out of bed.

seungmin watched you move, his eyes following you across the room as you padded toward the cap rack. you reached up and pulled out the black one.

you turned back to the bed and walked toward him.

he shifted up against the headboard, gaze fixed on you. you climbed onto the mattress carefully, the springs dipping under your weight, and knelt beside him.

then you lifted the cap and placed it on your own head.

a small smile tugged at your mouth.

he let out a soft chuckle, one of those warm ones that lived somewhere in his chest. “looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

you shook your head and pulled the cap off gently, then shifted closer. you settled in front of him and set the hat on his head, lowering it over his messy hair. he reached up to fix the brim, tugging it into place with a motion you’d seen a hundred times when you were younger.

then he looked at you.

something hit you hard in the chest. the cap sat on him exactly the way it used to. same angle, same shadows across his face, same soft curl of hair at his temples. he looked like the boy who used to nudge you in the ribs and pretend he wasn’t looking at you between innings.

“how does it look?” he asked.

you heard cheering from the tv behind you, some play happening on-screen, but you didn’t turn. you were too startled by the way your stomach dropped and fluttered at the same time. your mouth moved before your brain caught up.

“you look like… my boyfriend.”

the words slipped out quiet, dazed, almost whispered. and the moment you heard them, your breath stalled. you hadn’t meant to say it.

“i mean—” you said quickly, shaking your head, “the guy who used to be my boyfriend. you. not—i didn’t mean like… currently.”

seungmin huffed out a laugh, entertained by how fast you were scrambling. you sat there on your knees beside him, the fluffy duvet pooled behind you, the game murmuring in the background, and suddenly neither of you knew what to do with your hands. or your breathing. or your faces.

“sorry,” you said quietly. “that was weird.”

“it wasn’t weird,” he said, tone gentler than you expected. he shifted a little, sitting straighter, his knee bumping yours. “you’re just thinking really loud,” 

he tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes again. when you still didn’t look up, he reached up slowly and slid the hat off his head. he turned it in his hands once, thumb brushing the worn brim, then set it gently on the nightstand beside him.

your voice came out smaller than you intended. “seungmin?”

he hummed in response. you breathed once, nervously, then looked at him fully.

“…are you my boyfriend?”

he went still.

completely still.

his eyes lifted to yours, steady and too readable in the dim room. he didn’t speak at first. he just looked at you like the question had landed somewhere deep, somewhere he wasn’t expecting to feel it.

a quiet beat passed.

then another.

then he shifted forward slightly, legs brushing yours under the duvet. his voice dropped when he spoke again, low and without any of the teasing he’d used a moment ago.

“come here.”

your breath caught.

not because it sounded like a command. but because it didn’t. it sounded like he needed you close to answer you. you hesitated only long enough to swallow, then moved. you lifted the duvet, slipping beneath it and climbing into the space he made for you. the warmth of his body hit you instantly. you settled against him, your cheek pressed to his chest, your arm slipping around his waist like you were afraid he might vanish if you didn’t anchor him.

he exhaled slowly, almost relieved, and wrapped his arm around you. his hand found your hair, fingers brushing through it gently, slow enough that it made your eyes flutter. his chest rose and fell under your cheek.

you waited.

whatever was coming wasn’t the thing you wanted. you knew it. you felt it in how carefully he was holding you. like he was about to put something heavy between you and couldn’t figure out where to set it.

his fingers brushed along the back of your head again, gentler this time.

“y/n,” he murmured.

your throat closed a little. “yeah?”

his chest expanded under your cheek as he took a longer breath.

“i’m leaving in september.”

you raised your head slowly, your cheek sliding off his chest. you pushed yourself up enough to see his face in the dim light, your hair falling around your shoulders, the duvet still pooled around both of your waists.

“…what?” you whispered.

he didn’t look away. his eyes stayed on yours, steady but weighed down.

“we haven’t announced anything yet. not to anyone. but this year, this summer is… going to be insane for me. i’ve been trying to keep all of that from bleeding into us, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening.”

your chest tightened.

“i should’ve told you sooner,” he added, reaching out instinctively, his hand brushing your thigh under the duvet. “i’m sorry”

you didn’t speak. you just listened, sitting there on your knees beside him, duvet bunched in your hands, the quiet of the bedroom pressing close around you.

he exhaled, gaze dropping to the space between your knees. “our world tour starts here in august. but i’m leaving the country in september. we’re going everywhere—brazil, la, toronto, london.”

your fingers tightened in the duvet. “for how long?”

his hesitation was answer enough. but you waited. “ten months,” he said quietly. “maybe a little more.”

your breath stalled. ten months. nearly a year. 

“we’ll be back in seoul once or twice, but… only for a week each time.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, jaw flexing, like he’d been rehearsing this in his head for weeks but still couldn’t find a version that didn’t sound awful.

“that’s why,” he said quietly. “that’s why i never said anything about us having a label.”

you looked at him, confused and hurt all at once. 

he sighed, eyes flicking to you and then away again. “because it wouldn’t have been fair to you,” he said. “to make you wait around while i disappear for ten months. to call you my girlfriend and then leave you here, watching me through a screen, pretending that’s enough.”

“i know what that life is like,” he went on, voice low but steady now. “i wake up in one city, sleep in another. i can’t even guarantee when i’ll be able to call, because when it’s morning for me, it’s the middle of the night for you. and when i finally get a minute, i’ll be tired or distracted or surrounded by people. it’s not the kind of thing you deserve to be waiting on.”

you looked at him and suddenly the future felt like a long hallway you hadn’t realized you were standing in. not until now. not until he pointed to the door at the end of it.

he searched your face, his thumb brushing once against your skin.

“say something,” he whispered.

your mouth wouldn’t work, your brain had basically unplugged itself, and the only coherent thought you managed was that the universe always chooses the best time to take the man you loved away from you. part of you wanted to joke about buying a cardboard cutout of him to sleep next to, and part of you wanted to lie face-down on the mattress and let the sadness take you like a victorian widow.

but under all that noise, something simple pushed its way up.

you loved him. and if he thought ten months on tour was going to scare you off, or untangle the feelings you’d been carrying around for a decade, or somehow erase the fact that every version of him was the person you wanted then fuck him.

you lifted your head, eyes still damp, breath still unsteady, but your voice came out quiet and certain in a way that surprised both of you.

“i’ll wait.”

his whole body went still.

you swallowed, “if that’s what it takes. if you’re leaving… i’ll wait.”

his jaw tensed. his brows drew in, like the words physically hit him.

“y/n,” he whispered, not like he was warning you—more like he was scared to believe you.

but you did believe yourself. for the first time while having these types of conversations with him, you felt something settle in your chest instead of cracking.

“i don’t need you to always pretend your life isn’t insane.” you said. “i get it,” you went on. “your job is insane. your schedule is insane. you’re barely a person with how much they work you.” a tiny laugh escaped you. 

he opened his mouth, but you kept talking, not letting the fear swallow the words this time.

“but i don’t want to be strangers again.”

his expression softened and you felt his hand slide up your back.

“i can handle the distance,” you said quietly. “i can handle all of that if it’s… us.” you took a breath. “what i can’t handle is going back to pretending we’re nothing just because it’s easier.”

he let out a breath. his hand stayed on your back, warm and certain, fingers curling just a little like he needed the contact to speak.

“then i don’t want easy anymore either. i want you.” he said quietly. he kept going, voice growing more sure the longer he spoke. “if we’re doing this, i’m not half-assing it. i’m not disappearing and acting like you don’t matter. i’ll call when i can. i’ll fly home when i can. and when i can’t…” his thumb brushed the side of your waist, gentle. “i still won’t be going anywhere.”

you stared at him, stunned for a beat, because nothing about the way he said it felt uncertain. there was no fear in his voice now. no hesitation. just a choice he’d already made.

and your lips curved before you even realized you were smiling.

you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying yourself in the warm space between his shoulder and neck. he held you instantly.

“fuck,” he whispered into your hair. “i love you.”

your breath caught, your eyes stinging again—but the good kind this time.

it was the first time he’d said it since you were both sixteen.

you pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks flushed, eyes shining, a small disbelieving smile breaking over your face.

“i love you too,” you said, soft and certain.

he didn’t give you time to catch your breath.

the moment the words left your mouth, his hand slid to your cheek and he kissed you. it wasn’t rushed or hungry or desperate like before..he smiled into it, just barely, the curve of his mouth brushing yours, and you felt the warmth of it spread through your chest like sunlight.

when he finally pulled back, only enough to breathe, he wrapped his arms fully around you and hugged you so tightly you let out a tiny squeak. he laughed under his breath, then buried his face in your neck, nuzzling into your skin like he couldn’t get close enough.

you giggled, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your fingers curling into his hair.

he stayed there for a moment, breathing you in, holding you like he’d been afraid to touch you for years. then he pulled back just slightly—enough for his nose to brush yours, enough for you to see the softness in his eyes, enough for your heartbeat to trip over itself.

“can i be your boyfriend again, y/n?” he asked quietly, his voice warm and hopeful and a little breathless, like the question had been sitting on his tongue forever.

your answer came out before your brain even caught up.

you nodded. hard. maybe too hard. “yeah,” you whispered, your voice cracking with how giddy you suddenly felt. “yes.”

a tiny smile tugged at your lips and seungmin’s face softened completely. his eyes crinkled, his mouth curved. he leaned forward and kissed you once then pulled you back into his chest again. you tucked yourself into him, warm under the duvet, your legs tangled with his

he pressed one last kiss to the top of your head.

“my girl,” he said softly, almost in awe.

and you felt your whole chest glow.

“ok but if we’re dating now, there has to be rules.” you pushed yourself upright, gathering the duvet around your shoulders like it was a boardroom blazer. 

“rules?”

you cleared your throat, tightening the duvet around your shoulders like you were preparing for a ted talk. “yes. rules. because you, unfortunately, are famous, seungmin.”

he blinked once. “i am?”

“don’t play dumb,” you said, pointing at him. “rule number one,” you said, “you are not allowed to post anything on social media that could even remotely be interpreted as me.”

seungmin raised a brow, already smiling. “define remotely.”

“rule of thumb,” you said, “everything you post has to be in ones, not twos.”

“ones?” he repeated.

“yes. one drink. one fork. one chair. if there are two of anything, people will assume you’ve acquired a girlfriend and build a twitter thread about it by noon.” he tilted his head, still grinning. “so if i post a pair of socks on the floor, i’m doomed?” 

“yes,” you said with a chuckle. “one sock is fine. two socks and suddenly you have someone over.” 

“okay, but what about chopsticks?” he said, pretending to sound serious. “they come in pairs too. it’s cultural.” 

you stared at him. 

“seungmin, if you post chopsticks, people will decide someone’s sitting across from you eating ramen.” 

he pretended to think about it, “what if i post three chopsticks? just to confuse them.” 

“rule number two,” you continued, ignoring the smile tugging at your lips. “no showing up unannounced at my workplace. ever. i don’t care if you wanna watch baseball, you're not.”

he put a hand over his heart. “you're evil."

“rule number three. you can’t tell anyone just yet. not the members, not the bang chan guy you talk about.”

he huffed a laugh. “bang chan already suspects everything.”

you pointed a finger at his chest. “then let him suspect. he doesn’t know.”

seungmin’s eyes warmed as he watched you, your hair messy, the duvet slipping off your shoulder, your voice stern. “you sound like a pr manager.” he said affectionately.

“i am a pr manager,” you said. “just not yours.”

“thank goodness,” he murmured.

six months later

your laptop sat open on the kitchen island, sunlight spilling over spreadsheets you were very pointedly ignoring. off-season meant working from home—media briefs, pr notes, organizing preseason footage—and normally you didn’t mind the quiet. but today, the quiet was unbearable.

mostly because your boyfriend was on facetime from a hotel room in thailand, hair damp from a shower, t-shirt wrinkled like he’d slept in it, and he’d been pestering you for the last ten minutes.

“seungmin, i’m not going to listen to it now,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

he sprawled back on the hotel bed, phone propped against his chest, dim yellow lamp behind him. “yes, you are.”

“no, i’m not.”

“just do it for me, baby.”

you glared. “i don’t listen to your songs before release and you know that.”

and it was true. you had drawn a line about that early on—not because you didn’t want to hear his music, but because it was his job, his art, his work. especially after learning how much went into it—how many drafts, how many nights in the studio, how much pressure sat on every second of a track. ever since seungmin pulled you into his world, you started to really admire his work. you started listening to music differently. more intentionally. more carefully. not just as background noise, and not just as a break from watching a bunch of grown ass men run around throwing and hitting small balls for a living. 

and you never wanted to cross the boundary where you got early access to something the other members poured their time into just because your boyfriend felt like spoiling you. that never sat right with you. 

except seungmin did not give a single shit.

“you’re literally my girlfriend,” he said flatly. “who the fuck cares?”

“because,” you argued, “i wanna put respect on you and your members and the whole process—”

he rolled his eyes dramatically. “i don’t want respect. i want you to hear the damn song.”

you tried—genuinely tried—not to smile at how blunt he looked, sprawled across hotel pillows with that half-annoyed, half-soft expression.

his new album hop was releasing in a few hours. each member had a solo track and he was desperately trying to have you at least listen to his own. he shifted, sitting up a little straighter. something gentler slid into his voice.

“i want you to hear it before everyone because it’s yours.”

you froze.

he swallowed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again, softer now. “i wrote it in the spring. when all i could think about was you.”

your pulse tripped. “what?”

“it’s not just a song,” he said quietly. “it’s everything i couldn’t say back then. everything i was scared to say. i’ve been waiting months for you to hear it.”

you stared at him, eyes wide. “you… wrote a song for me?”

seungmin blinked at you like you’d just asked if water was wet. “why are you shocked?”

“i—because—seungmin—”

he shook his head, an incredulous little smile tugging at his mouth. “i write about you all the time. half the demos on my phone are either about missing you, wanting you, or being annoyed i miss you.” he paused, eyes softening. “but this one is different.”

your chest tightened.

“this one’s… extra special,” he murmured. “because i wasn’t writing around how i felt. i wasn’t dodging it.” his voice dipped. “i just wrote exactly what my feelings were.”

your breath caught. the room felt too warm. or maybe that was just him—even from a hotel room on the other side of the world.

you sighed, grabbing your phone. “fine.”

his face lit up instantly. you pretended not to notice.

you opened your messages—there it was. a little audio file sitting above a string of daily texts he’d sent from different airports.

a recording.

your thumb hovered. “what’s it called?”

he hesitated for half a second, like he’d been waiting for you to ask, like he’d been thinking about this exact moment since the day he finished writing it.

“As We Are.”

epilogue: fall of 2025

there are moments in life when you suddenly realize you’re living the exact dream your teenage self used to die for and didn’t even notice it happening until you’re smack in the middle of it. like one of those stupid movie montages where everything finally lines up and the universe throws glitter on your head.

that’s exactly how you felt sitting behind fucking home plate at dodger stadium. you. in los angeles.  at one of the most eventful postseason games of the year.

you took a slow breath, letting the whole scene wash over you. when you looked around, the stands were an endless sea of blue. dodgers blue, blue jays blue, thousands of shirts and hats and jerseys blending together until the whole crowd looked like one giant wave. it should have been inconvenient, confusing even, trying to tell the two teams apart. instead it was beautiful. the matching colors made the stadium feel unified in a way you weren’t expecting, like everyone had agreed to paint themselves into the same picture.

the lights were bright, the rally towels were spinning, the upper deck buzzed with noise. every direction you looked, the energy rolled over you—people shouting, clapping, jumping, passing snacks, holding their breath between pitches. it felt alive in that cinematic way, the kind of atmosphere that makes your chest tighten and your skin prickle.

for a minute, you forgot to breathe. you just stared, taking it all in, because this was the kind of moment you used to only imagine. the field was glowing, the sky was settling into late-evening gold, and you were close enough to hear the sharp smack of the catcher’s mitt.

you tore your eyes away from the field when you felt a presence coming towards you, a familiar shift of air, the faint scent of his cologne.

there he was—your glorious, annoying, attractive boyfriend—coming down the short aisle. he’s wearing a backwards cap, sleeves rolled just enough to show a hint of forearm, with two drinks in his hands like he’d just trekked across a desert. except the trek was laughably minimal now. no hundreds of flights of stairs. no nosebleed seats. just ten steps from the concourse and right back to you.

“you took so long,” you said as he slid into the seat, sounding only a little dramatic. “i almost thought you were get scouted.”

seungmin scoffed, shaking his head as he handed you your drink. “they can’t afford me.”

you grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours. he finally sat, settling comfortably as if he always belonged next to you in a stadium this massive. his arm lifted casually and draped behind you, fingers brushing your shoulder.

this was your first time going public. and what a way to do it—sitting behind home plate at a postseason game in the states, surrounded by fifty thousand people, cameras everywhere, your names floating somewhere in the same oxygen as celebrities and players and broadcasters.

you were almost certain people were taking pictures—phones angled your way, the occasional double-take, a couple of not-so-subtle whispers behind you—but it honestly wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d imagined. maybe it was the energy of the stadium. maybe it was the fact that seungmin looked perfectly relaxed beside you, sipping his drink like he wasn’t a globally recognizable idol. 

the third out snapped your attention back to the field, and you cheered automatically, clapping loud with everyone else. seungmin did too, nudging his knee against yours as you both got swept up in the excitement. the two of you were wearing matching plain unbranded blue because the last thing you needed was to get flamed online for rooting for the “wrong” team.

“see?” you said, still smiling. “i told you neutral was smart.”

he shrugged. “i look good in blue.”

“you look good in anything.”

he blinked, then smirked. “say it louder.”

“no.”

you laughed, settling back as the stadium shifted into the next inning. as the teams jogged off the field and the inning turned over, you started rambling about how american teams had the most ridiculous pr budgets you’d ever seen. the marketing. the sponsorship deals. the sheer theatricality of it all.

“and look at that,” you said, pointing to the scoreboard before continuing your ramble of words. “back in korea, we could never get away with half of this.” 

seungmin turned his head, watching you with that quiet, amused expression he always got when you started talking shop. he didn’t interrupt. he just listened, eyes fixed on you like you were the only part of the stadium worth paying attention to.

he’d told you before that he liked hearing about the behind-the-scenes stuff—how teams handled media, how players got prepped, how you coordinated crises and schedules and press. and you loved when he shared the same from his world—practice schedules, comeback planning, dance rehearsals, how idols were shuffled through a hundred tasks that no one would ever see.

it was almost like a perfect exchange program. a terrible name for it, honestly. but it felt exactly right.

you got to see his world. he got to see yours. and somehow the two fit together easier than you’d ever imagined.

you were mid-sentence—something about outfield camera angles and fan engagement—when the stadium suddenly dimmed.

the jumbotron flickered.

a soft glow spread across the screen.

and then, in huge bubbly pink letters:

kiss cam

your mouth parted in disbelief.

it wasn't just anyone on the screen. it was you. leaned subtly into seungmin’s side, and him looking unfairly good with his cap pushed back just enough to show his forehead. the crowd started reacting louder now, laughter and cheers blurring together into one giant noise.

it felt like you were watching someone else. like those two people up there were some couple you’ve never met.

you don’t move.

you were too busy watching your reflection on the jumbotron, wide-eyed and unblinking, like it might change if you just wait long enough. the cheers grow louder. and on the screen, you caught it—seungmin’s hand shifting.

slowly, casually, it moved from the back of your seat… to your shoulder… then gently to your cheek. his thumb brushed just beneath your jaw.

you turned.

the screen disappeared from your mind.

just seungmin, inches away, looking at you with a calm you definitely didn't feel. his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back to your eyes like a silent question.

and you leaned in.

your lips met his. it only lasted a second or two. but it was enough.

enough to make your heart stutter. enough to hear the crowd explode in the background.

and when you pull back, his hand is still on your face, and he’s still looking at you like that. like it’s just you and him and everything else is background noise.

“you okay?” he asked, voice low.

you nodded, stunned. “yeah. i—yeah.”

he searched your face like he was trying to catch even the faintest hint of doubt. the crowd was still buzzing, people laughing, clapping, nudging each other because they just watched you and seungmin kiss on the biggest screen to ever exist.

“you sure?” he asked again, quieter this time. not teasing. because he knows how big this moment is. for both of you.

you let out a tiny breath, the kind that warms your whole chest, and your lips pull into a smile you can’t fight even if you tried.

“i’m sure,” you said, and you hear the steadiness in your own voice.

then you leaned into him, arms wrapping around his middle as you press your face briefly into his shoulder. he hugs you back instantly. you feel him smile against your hair.

and in that loud, chaotic stadium, wrapped up in him and blue lights and the echo of the crowd, you realize you’re not just living your teenage dream.

you’re living your dream. with him.

kim seungmin is the smart, annoying friend who always reminds everyone about deadlines two weeks in advance. he is the boy who carries a bag heavier than his own body because he insists on bringing every book “just in case”. he is the boy who sighs whenever one of your friends makes a stupid decision but then immediately helps them anyway.

kim seungmin is the boy who complains the loudest and loves the hardest. 

he loves studying and he loves his colour coded notes and neat handwriting and he also loves getting the highest grade and acting like he doesn’t care much about it.

he likes his routines - waking up at eight, having coffee with exactly one sugar, listening to the same playlists over and over again, walking to university instead of taking the bus because he likes to dedicate those extra fifteen minutes to think.

his life is simple, comfortable and very predictable. or at least most of it is, except for the parts of his life that concern you. 

not that he ever tells you this, god forbid.

because seungmin is brave enough to argue with your professors, brave enough to tell strangers when they’re wrong, brave enough to stand up for every single one of your friends. but when it comes to you? he is pathetic, absolutely hopeless.

you had met years ago during your first year at university, he remembers it with embarrassing clarity - you were sitting one row ahead of him, your hair messy because you had been late to class and your cheeks still red from running across campus. the professor had asked a question and you - very confidently, he has to say - had given the wrong answer. he had laughed at your answer, like a full and proper snort escaped him, and you just turned around and glared at him, making him freeze in his seat. 

“you think it’s funny?”, you had asked him, narrowing your eyes.

he stopped laughing immediately and shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours, and somehow, that was your beginning, because your hatred for him lasted only those twenty seconds, maybe even less, and after that, your friendship began.

now you are inseparable and seungmin thinks that everything about you two is normal, or at least he likes to pretend that it’s normal when he texts you good morning every day, when he walks on the side closest to traffic when you’re together, when he keeps your favourite snacks in his bag, when he knows which things make your eyes light up and when he knows when you’re lying about being okay.

sometimes he thinks he knows you better than he knows himself, and maybe that’s exactly why he’s doomed, because he is completely and utterly in love with you. he knows it, and he also knows that it’s embarrassing and stupid, because now everything revolves around you. every accomplishment means nothing if he can’t tell you first and every joke becomes funnier if you laugh at it.

he tries to ignore his feelings at first, but of course, he fails miserably, because every time you smile at him, his brain short circuits. he’s completely gone and every single one of your friends knows it.

“you are disgusting”, changbin tells him one day.

seungmin frowns, “i’m literally doing nothing”

“you’re staring at y/n as she walks away”

he scoffs and ignores him, but he spends the next ten minutes wondering if it’s so obvious that everyone can see it. well, everyone except you. or maybe you do see it and you just haven’t said anything because you don’t feel the same way and you want to be nice, to still be friends.

seungmin doesn’t know and he’s too scared to find out, so he settles for your friendship and your late night phone calls as well as your movie nights and walking you home every time you go out. 

but he also likes to think that maybe, just maybe, the universe will help him someday, and maybe one day you’ll realise how he looks at you and you’ll look at him the same way. 

but until then, he just wants to be enough for you, your best friend and the person you can rely on. he wants to be good for you, in every possible way, even in ways that he doesn’t understand yet, which becomes a problem because unlike most of your friends, seungmin has exactly zero experience when it comes to romance, and even less when it comes to sex.

zero, nothing, nada. 

he’s never had a girlfriend, never kissed anyone, never gone on a proper date. the closest thing he has to experience is reading awkward advice forums at three in the morning, which he thinks it’s ridiculous, because now, he’s twenty-something and your last year at university is finally here. 

he’s an adult and he still blushes whenever your friends make dirty jokes, he still coughs awkwardly and looks away when there’s a sex scene on tv, and he still pretends to check his phone whenever your friends talk about who they went home with the night before or how many times they came that weekend.

it’s embarrassing, especially because lately he can’t stop thinking about you. not in a bad way, no, not because he wants to disrespect you, it’s quite the opposite really. he likes you so much that he wants to understand relationships better, he wants to know what to do to make you happy, he wants to know how to be caring and gentle but also rough, he wants to know how to make you feel good just in case he ever has the chance to.

so he decides to do some research, because that’s what he always does, research everything. he starts with educational websites, reading some articles and medical journals as well as safe relationship guides. 

he takes notes - yes, actual notes - and reads for hours, learning absolutely nothing useful because every single web says the same things: communicate with your partner, respect your boundaries, be honest, don’t force things… and they are good points obviously, but it’s nothing he didn’t know before and they don’t answer the questions he’s too embarrassed to say out loud.

what if he’s awkward?

what if he’s inexperienced forever?

what if one day you like him back and he disappoints you?

what if you decide to walk away from him? 

those questions keep him awake at night, so eventually, and hesitantly, with his face burning bright red, and in the privacy of his room when he knows changbin is already sleeping in his, he starts looking elsewhere, on different pages, pages where people share their experiences. then he moves to pages where people share videos, pages he had never dared visit before.

he sees one that’s a bit different from the others, a page that shows livestreams too, not just recordings. his cursor hovers over the link for a bit before he rubs his face. he tells himself that this is only to find and learn new things, that he’s only doing this because he has been hopelessly in love with you for years and wants to learn every way to hopefully make you feel good one day, to not make a fool of himself and learn things that you may like. 

his hand hesitates a bit more and then with a racing heart and enough embarrassment to last a lifetime, he decides to explore a world he knows absolutely nothing about and clicks on the link. the screen flashes and a new tab opens, bathing his dorm room in the pale blue glow of it. he sees multiple videos at first before he opens one where a girl is in nothing but a thin white tank top and panties, sitting cross-legged on her bed. her nipples are already stiff against the fabric and she keeps rubbing herself through her underwear, the damp spot growing darker with every pass.

seungmin’s throat goes dry and he closes the livestream fast.

he opens a new one, the girl there naked from her waist down as she fingers herself with two fingers. he sees the chat going crazy, people sending donations and comments, and when he feels his face burn again he closes that livestream too.

another click, another girl, this time lying on her back with her legs spread wide. the livestream doesn’t fully load before seungmin closes that one too, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

he keeps clicking, each new livestream more explicit than the last and then, he finds one that makes him stop when he opens it.

the girl is on her knees in the centre of her bed, her face carefully cropped out of frame. she is wearing a black bra and matching panties and something about the way she moves makes seungmin freeze. she reaches up and cups her breasts over the bra, her thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples. from the corner of his eye, seungmin can see the chat going crazy, as the comments and donations never stop.

leethighs: fuck yes

aussielord: i’m so hard take everything off 

the girl ignores the comment and keeps touching herself, squeezing and rubbing until her breathing grows heavier. seungmin swallows hard and his hand drifts down without permission and presses against the growing bulge in his pants which he didn’t realise until now. every single sound that comes from the girl makes his stomach twist with a confusing mix of shame and heat and even though he tells himself he is only doing this for research, his cock is already hard and ready to explode. 

the girl on the screen hooks her thumbs into her panties and moves just enough to push them down her thighs and kick them off. then she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, leaving her completely naked, with her knees spread and her cunt on full display. the camera angle is low enough that seungmin can see everything, including her folds and the way her clit peeks out when she moves. 

she reaches down and traces two fingers along her folds, a moan slipping out of her. seungmin’s hand moves on its own, taking his cock out and giving it one slow stroke, biting his lip to keep quiet. the girl spreads her legs wider and uses her fingers to part her folds, showing the camera how wet she already is. she circles her clit a few times and then slides one finger inside herself, moaning again.

seungmin’s grip tightens and he strokes himself in time with her movements, his eyes glued to the screen, completely hypnotised. 

quokkjone: fuck yourself for us

midnightwolf: such a good girl

maknaeontop: i’m gonna come just watching you

artprince69: add another finger

the girl obeys this time and pushes a second finger inside herself as her hips rock forward to meet her own hand. her moans grow breathier and higher, she’s almost screaming now, letting the sounds fall out of her as she fucks herself harder. 

seungmin’s hand moves faster, his eyes locked on the girl’s cunt, watching the way her fingers disappear inside her again and again. he imagines what it would feel like to be the one inside her, no, how it would feel like to be inside you, making you scream like the girl in the livestream is doing right now. he imagines you, spread open like that for him, begging for him, and the thought alone makes his cock twitch hard in his fist, his orgasm growing faster and unstoppable now. 

the girl adds a third finger, her moans turning into cries now. her free hand moves to pinch one nipple, the chat going feral at this point.

maknaeontop: you look so pretty like this fuck

leethighs: three fingers in i bet you like it rough

he is panting now, trying to stay quiet and not wake changbin up, but he can’t stop looking at the girl and how her fingers keep moving as her moans never stop. her thighs start to tremble and then she comes hard, her juices leaking out around her fingers as she keeps rubbing her clit through her orgasm. 

seungmin’s stokes grow frantic and then his orgasm hits him like a punch, his hips jerking as his cum shoots across his stomach and hand, his vision going white for a second. he keeps stroking his cock through his orgasm, milking every drop as he watches the girl on screen pull her fingers out. she leans forward just enough for the camera to catch the movement of her hand and then, she waves once and ends the stream. 

seungmin sits there in the sudden silence, the screen with the image of the girl close to the camera now, his chest heaving and his cock softening in his sticky hand. his cum is cooling on his skin as he stares at the “stream ended” message. he feels his face burn with embarrassment, he hadn’t meant for this to happen. he just wanted to learn, to understand, to find things, to hopefully be good for you one day.

instead he had just jerked off to a stranger while imagining it was you who was spread open and screaming for him.

two weeks, fourteen days, that’s long enough for everyone to notice how seungmin keeps disappearing. not completely, because he still shows up to every class and hands in every assignment on time, but the moment class ends, he’s gone.

he doesn’t linger in the hallway, he doesn’t grab coffee with all of you, there’s no spontaneous movie nights, no teasing you until you threaten to throw your book at him. nothing, he always has an excuse.

“i can’t, i have to study”

“not today, i have to do some research for a project” 

to be honest they’re believable excuses, they’re seungmin excuses, and nobody questions them. and to be fair, he really does some research, just not the one you all expected him to do.

the first livestream should have been the last one, that’s the first thing he told himself the morning after he watched it. he woke up and deleted his browser history, then avoided opening his laptop for almost the entire day. he promised himself that what had happened was a mistake born from curiosity and that he would move on and forget it happened.

but what happened instead was that that same evening, he caught himself wondering if that girl would stream again that day, then he opened his laptop and found the page and the same girl again, embarrassingly fast he has to admit. he told himself he would look at the account for a minute, just to prove himself that the fascination was gone.

but it wasn’t.

one minute became thirty and thirty became an hour and then he had learnt the days she usually goes live, according to the schedule she had posted. and without meaning to, he started planning his days around her schedule and whenever there wasn’t a livestream, he would watch the old ones, archived in previous recordings. 

there are lots of them, more than he expected, and the girl always starts and ends the livestream with a small wave, which makes her seem less like a stranger. that thought unsettles him a bit because he knows he shouldn’t feel familiar with someone he’s never met, he shouldn’t feel familiar with a girl who he watches with her fingers buried deep inside her as his hand strokes his cock wishing it was someone else’s hand instead.

he wonders why he feels so familiar with her and then, one day, he realises the reason he can’t look away, the reason why something about her has felt strangely familiar from the very beginning - it’s her silhouette, her body.

it reminds him of you, of your body.

when he realises, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. he hates himself for even thinking about it because it feels invasive, wrong. the comparison comes from last summer when you all went on a weekend trip and he saw you wearing your bikini when you went to the beach. it wasn’t too revealing, just a normal bikini, but he remembers how hard he had tried not to stare at you, how hard he had to convince himself he wasn’t staring.

apparently his memory had been sharper than he realised.

now whenever he sees that girl, he sees you. he sees her body and wishes it was yours, he sees her fingers parting her folds and circling her clit and he wishes it was your fingers entering you instead. or even better, he wishes that girl was you and he was the one who had his fingers inside you, well his fingers or whatever it was that you wanted from him. 

and every time he sees you now, the real you and not a figure of his imagination when he has his hands on his cock, guilt settles in his chest like a stone. because even though this all started with him wanting to learn and be good for a possible, hypothetical future where you two are together, the reality now is that he will masturbate while he watches a stranger and thinks about you. he wonders when things got out of hand. 

so, when the second saturday after his little livestreams adventure started comes, all of your friends plan to go to the cinema and have dinner outside, just a little break from all your exams and what not. but to no one’s surprise, seungmin decides to stay in, because he has to do some…

‘research’

changbin says goodbye and clicks the door of their dorm shut behind him. seungmin waits one minute, then a bit more, and only when he’s completely sure that changbin won’t suddenly come back because he forgot his wallet or his phone or something, he closes the door of his room and reaches for his laptop. he opens the page that he knows by heart already and then, enters the account and a small message appears at the top.

live in five minutes.

his heart is already pounding like he had run up four flights of stairs. he shifts in his chair, already half-hard from the anticipation alone and he wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs. then the stream loads and the live begins.

the girl is on her knees in the middle of her bed, her face cropped out like always. she’s wearing a baby blue lace bra that barely qualifies as clothing, leaving very little to the imagination, if anything at all, and the delicate cups are sheer enough that her nipples are seen through the fabric. she’s not wearing panties this time, her bare hips and thighs are on full display, but because of how she’s sitting, her cunt isn’t visible for now. seungmin’s cock gives a hard and immediate twitch inside his boxers.

the girl lifts one hand and gives the camera that same familiar wave and the chat starts working, people already sending their comments and donations.

artprince69: fuck yeah she’s back

quokkjone: that bra and no panties? you’re criminal

aussielord: take it off already

seungmin’s mouth goes dry and he presses the heel of his hand against his swelling cock while he bites his lip. the girl brings both hands up to cup her breasts over the lace, her thumbs dragging slow circles over her nipples until the fabric tents even more. the lace looks so delicate against her skin that seungmin can almost feel how soft it is.

she reaches off-screen for a moment and when her hand comes back into frame, it’s holding something new - a big and thick dildo. seungmin lets out an involuntary groan, his cock getting harder just from imagining what she’s gonna do. she has never used a toy on a live before and the sight of it in her hand makes his cock throb painfully.

the chat goes feral, more donations coming and the comments going absolutely crazy.

leethighs: ride that until you squirt 

maknaeontop: i wish it was my cock instead

midnightwolf: the princess wants to play with fire tonight

seungmin shoves his clothes to his thighs until his cock springs free, already leaking. he wraps his hand around the base and gives one slow stroke as his eyes stay locked on the girl. she leans forwards just enough for her mouth to enter the frame and then she parts her lips and lets a long and thick string of spit drip from her tongue onto the tip of the dildo. the saliva runs down the toy and she uses her hand to spread it, making it slick and shiny.

seungmin’s grip tightens, as he imagines that spit was yours and that toy was his cock, he imagines that you were the one getting it ready for him, and that thought makes his hips jerk upwards into his hand.

the girl shifts on the bed, spreading her knees wider, letting everyone see her cunt now, her clit peeking out and her entrance clenching visibly as she positions herself. she holds the dildo beneath her and then begins to lower herself. seungmin’s breath punches out of him in a ragged moan as the toy disappears inside her. she pauses halfway, breathing hard, and then sinks the rest of the way until her ass meets the bed and the toy is completely inside her, a broken moan slipping out of her.

seungmin strokes himself faster, matching her pace as she begins to move, rising up until just the tip remains inside her and then dropping back down, taking every inch again. one of her hands comes up to squeeze her breasts through the lace, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her scream. 

aussielord: that’s it keep riding that toy sunshine

artprince69: fuck i already came from seeing this

midnightwolf: good girl, taking it like a champ 

seungmin barely registers the comments, as his hand keeps flying up and down his cock. in his mind the girl on screen is you, he pictures your body in that baby blue lace and your cunt swallowing his cock instead of the toy, your moans and screams filling his room instead of hers. he imagines reaching up to tug the bra down, freeing your breasts so he can suck on your nipples while you ride him.

the girl starts riding the toy faster, her moans almost desperate now. her free hand moves to her clit, her thighs shaking with the new sensation. the dildo is soaked, shiny with her arousal and every time she lifts off it leaves a string of wetness connecting her pussy to the toy, and the only thing seungmins wants to do is lick it clean. he can feel his orgasm building fast, hotter and heavier than anything he has felt before.

the girl’s movements grow erratic and then her back arches and she finally comes, screaming as one of her hands keeps pinching her nipple and the other circles her clit. a long and broken cry tears from her throat and seungmin comes with her, his cum shooting from his cock and splattering across his hand, his thighs and his t-shirt. the mess is everywhere but he can’t stop looking at the girl and how her cunt still flutters around the dildo.

she lifts herself off the toy slowly, and then she holds the glistening toy up for the camera one last time. she leans forward just enough to wave goodbye and then ends the livestream, the thumbnail of the video being a full and clear image of the baby blue lace bra and her nipples still visible through the lace.

seungmin sits there staring at it, his chest heaving and his cock softening in his hand. his thighs are still shaking and even though that guilt and heat start a war in his chest again, the image of that bra on the screen stays burned behind his eyelids, he can’t look away. his breathing is still uneven, his heart refusing to settle as guilt washes over him.

he drags a trembling hand over his face, “what is wrong with me…”

he doesn’t close the page, he can’t - the thumbnail remains on the screen, frozen exactly where the stream ended. he snaps the laptop shut, hiding the screen for now, pretending that this never happened. he lets out a long breath and then stands up, moving to grab a clean towel and then heading straight for the bathroom.

the cold water from the shower spills over his shoulders, making him flinch immediately. he welcomes it and hopes that it will help him, because he is still thinking about the girl and you, which makes him half-hard again. 

it helps a little but not enough to erase the embarrassment nor to erase the fact that every time he closes his eyes, he sees fragments of the live replaying in his mind, hoping it was you instead. he presses both hands against the wall, shaking his head.

“this is getting ridiculous”, he says to no one in particular.

it is getting a bit ridiculous if he has to be honest, because he started doing this so he could learn and find things that you could like and now? he’s in his dorm, organising his days around a girl he’s never met, making excuses to his friends and avoiding the one person he actually wants to spend time with.

you. 

the irony isn’t lost on him.

when he finishes showering, he goes to his room and pulls on a hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants and then goes to the kitchen. he opens the cupboards, staring blankly inside, trying to choose what to eat but before he can pull something off the shelf, the bell rings. seungming freezes, he’s not expecting anyone, changbin would use the code and all of your friends are at the cinema. 

another knock, softer this time, and then a voice, “seungmin?”

his heart stops when he realises it’s your voice. every guilty thought crashes back into him all at once and then he quickly smooths down the front of his hoodie as though that somehow could wash away all of them.

“coming!”, he says, his voice cracking.

wonderful.

he walks to the door, clears his throat and then opens it. you’re standing there with an overnight bag over your shoulder and a plastic bag dangling from your wrist.  

you grin the moment you see him, “hello stranger”

“i…”, he says, blinking, “i thought everyone was going to the cinema”

“they are”, you say and he frowns, “but i knew you weren’t gonna go, so i came here instead”

his ears immediately burn, “i’ve been busy”

“mmhm”, you say, not sounding very convinced.

“i really was”, he says.

“mmhm”, you say again. 

before he can think of another excuse, you slip past him into the dorm as though you’ve done it a thousand times before, which you have to be honest. 

“okay so seeing that you’ve been so… “busy”, we’re gonna have our own movie night”, you say as you turn to look at him and hold up the bag you have with you.

he walks towards you and looks inside - he sees popcorn, chocolate, cookies, his favourite drink, your favourite candy.

“you know you can't just invite yourself over, you know?”, he says, teasing you, trying to act as normal as he can.

“too bad i already did”, you say, giving him the bag and then turning around, walking towards his room. 

he walks to the kitchen again just as he hears the squeak of his bed when you flop onto it, before you speak again.

“seungmin!”

“what?”, he says from the kitchen.

“bring food”

“you already brought food”

“no, i brought my food”

he laughs without looking at you, the knot in his chest loosening just a little.

“you’re unbelievable”, he says to himself, but somehow you still hear him.

“i know!”

he shakes his head, unable to stop smiling. he gets some of your snacks and also others for him because you’re really serious about your food and not sharing it and he learnt that lesson the hard way. he then walks to his room, settling everything down on the desk, beside his laptop, before he clumps onto the bed with you. 

“so”, he says, “what are we watching?”

you gasp and turn to look at him, “you mean i get to choose?”

“i didn’t say that”, he says, turning to look at you.

“you implied it”

“i absolutely didn’t”

“you did”

“i really didn’t”

you stick your tongue at him and he laughs, turning to look at the ceiling.

“okay, so… romance?”, you say.

“absolutely no”

“minnie!”

“what?”

“why not? you know they’re my favourite”, you say, hitting his shoulder.

“y/n, they’re too predictable and full of cliches”

“well, i still love them”, you say, turning to look at the ceiling too.

“action?”, he asks you, turning his face to look at you.

“no, too loud”, you say, looking at him again.

“animated?”

“ugh, no”

he laughs and shakes his head and you continue.

“what about… a comedy?”

he pretends to think for a moment, “... maybe”

“yes!”, you say, throwing your hands into the air, “i will go and choose one”, you say and then you swing your legs over the side of the bed, already walking towards the desk where his laptop is. 

it takes seungmin one second to realise what you’re doing, but it’s already too late, there’s nothing he can do to stop you.

“y/n, wait-”, he says as he stands up too, his entire body shaking, every ounce of blood draining from his face. 

you reach his desk and look at him smiling before you turn to look at the laptop, “oh shush and just let me choose one, trust me i will-”

you stop talking the moment you open his laptop and see the screen, his hand half outstretched between you and the laptop but stopping there, already too late. the screen shows the livestream page, the thumbnail from earlier frozen there - baby blue lace and a woman cropped at the neck, the unmistakable layout of a cam site surrounding the image.

seungmin hopes that he can somehow rewind the last five seconds if he reaches far enough but he can’t, you’ve already seen it. your smile slowly fades as your eyes stay fixed on the screen before you turn towards him.

“seungmin?”

he can’t answer, his mouth opens but nothing comes out. you look back at the laptop then at him again.

“what…”, you say, your voice much quieter now, “w-what is this?”

his heart plummets.

“no-”, he says as he shakes his head, “no, it’s not-”

he doesn’t even know what he’s trying to deny, you haven’t accused him of anything or looked disgusted or even stepped away from him. you’re just… confused.

“i can explain”, he says, his voice cracking “i-i know how this looks, but it’s not-”, he shakes his head again, dragging his hands through his hair so hard it almost hurts, “it’s not what you think”

you remain silent, looking at him, waiting for him to explain.

“i’m not…”, he swallows, “i’m not obsessed with porn or camgirls”, the words sound ridiculous the moment they leave his mouth, “i mean- i don’t- i don’t usually watch things like this, i’ve never done this before”, he says as his face burns and his breathing grows quicker.

he continues as his thoughts tumble over each other faster than he can sort them.

“i just…”, he gestures helplessly towards his laptop, “i was trying to… learn”

you blink, “learn?”

“yes”, he says, “i know that sounds stupid but i just… i don’t know anything”

his words come out so quietly he almost misses them himself, but it’s not something you didn’t know before, you had had your suspicions for a while.

“i’ve never dated anyone or kissed anyone before, let alone know anything about relationships and, well… sex”, he gestures vaguely towards the laptop again, “i don’t know how any of… that works”

he laughs then, a short and miserable laugh before he continues.

“so i read some articles and wrote some things down”

“what, like notes?”, you ask him.

“i colour coded them, yeah”, he says, shaking his head, “but i know that normal people probably don’t write and colour code relationship or sex advice”

you stand there still, looking at him, watching him spiralling too quickly.

“so i decided to… watch some streams because i thought that maybe i’d understand some things. i thought that maybe…”, another helpless laugh, “i don’t know, it could be a kind of research or something”

he winces at his own words, he knows how bad it sounds, and he’s sure you must think he’s crazy. 

“i wasn’t trying to be creepy, i wasn’t trying to- i just-”, his words begin tripping over each other completely, “i wanted to know how to be enough. i wanted to know what people liked. how to make someone feel good. how to make someone- because- i- i just-”

he laughs again, sounding close to tears this time.

“because what if one day… what if one day you…”, the sentence catches in his throat because he knows he shouldn’t say it, he’s already embarrassed enough, but the panic has completely stolen whatever filter he normally has, “because what if one day you said you loved me too?”

he closes his eyes, not wanting to look at you, not wanting to see your reaction in case this is the moment you decide to walk away from him.

“i’ve loved you for years, y/n, ever since we first met to be honest, and i just… i kept thinking that… what if the impossible happened and you loved me too?”, he says, his voice cracking, “and then…”, his breathing stutters, “i kept thinking that you’d realise that i don’t know anything, i don’t know how to kiss someone or how to date, i don’t know…”, he gestures weakly towards the laptop again, “any of that, and then you’d think that i wasn’t good enough, that i’d disappoint you and then you’d leave me”

he says, his throat tightening as another broken laugh escapes him.

“i was trying to learn. i wanted…”, he says as his eyes remain glued to the floor now, “i wanted to be someone worthy of you, someone that could make you feel good in case you wanted me to”

the words barely leave his lips as he remains there, completely frozen and unable to look at you.

“i know how insane this all sounds, i know. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, y/n. i’ll delete everything, i’ll never open that web again, i promise. i didn’t mean for you to-”

“seungmin”, you say, but he doesn’t hear you.

“i’m sorry i just-”

“seungmin”

“i swear i wasn’t-”

“kim seungmin”

you cross the distance between you and his words die the moment your fingers grab his hoodie, so firm that they stop him from spiralling more. you tug enough to make him lift his head, to make him look at you and for the first time since you opened the laptop, slowly and reluctantly, your eyes finally meet. 

he looks at you and sees something he has never seen before. you aren’t angry or embarrassed or even feeling sorry for him. if anything, you look completely in control, there’s a confidence in your posture that he doesn’t recognise. 

something has completely shifted the balance between you, and seungmin’s heartbeat somehow manages to speed up even more. he feels rooted to the floor and then one of your hands rises until your fingertips brush lightly against his cheek, your eyes never leaving his.

“let me see if i’ve understood this correctly”, you say as he watches you, unable to look anywhere else, “you’re in love with me, have been for years”, you say and he manages to nod his head, “and because you’ve never dated anyone…”, you tilt your head thoughtfully, “you convinced yourself you had to learn everything before you could ever have a chance with me”, his lips part but he doesn’t say anything so you continue, “so you started… researching… and ended up watching videos of a girl fucking herself so you could learn things that could make me feel good so you wouldn’t disappoint me if we ever got together… is that it?”

his voice fails completely and all he can do is nod his head again. he stands there looking at you and wondering when exactly you became so effortlessly confident, when you started looking at him like this. you smirk and lean closer then, so close that he can feel your breath near his ear and when you speak again, your voice is barely above a whisper.

“well, it’s a good thing that you picked my videos to learn from”

seungmin swears that everything stops right there and then, his brain refusing to process what you just said.

“my videos”

no, he must have misheard you, surely.

“you’ve got to be kidding me”, that’s what he wants to say but his mouth won’t cooperate with him.

you pull back just enough to see his face and a quiet laugh escapes you, “what? you don’t believe me?”

he still can’t answer, nothing makes sense.

“i suppose i can’t blame you”, you say as you shake your head with an almost fond smile.

without breaking eye contact, your hands move to the zip at the back of your dress and then you open it and let it fall on the floor. seungmin’s eyes widen when he sees it - the baby blue bra. his gaze snaps towards the laptop, to the thumbnail, and then back to you. it’s the same one, he’s completely sure of it. his breathing stops but before he can say anything, both of your hands come up to him again, one cupping his cheek and the other settling at the side of his neck, your thumb resting just beneath his jaw.

“and i think that you’ll also be very glad to know that i’m in love with you too”

before he has a chance to say anything, you lean forward and your lips meet his, the kiss lasting only a heartbeat before surprise catches up with him and then instinct takes over. his eyes flutter close and every anxious thought that’s been racing through his mind for weeks dissolves all at once.

his mouth parts under the pressure of your lips and you slide your tongue past his. his hands hover uselessly at his sides for a second before he puts them on your waist, his fingers twitching like he’s afraid he’ll do something wrong. you don’t give him time to overthink, you lick into his mouth again and he follows you without thinking, his tongue meeting yours. 

you break the kiss only to catch his lower lip between your teeth, tugging before letting go. his eyes are glassy when they open and you smile at him, your hands sliding down to the hem of his hoodie.

“arms up”, you say.

he obeys you instantly and you take his hoodie off, leaving his chest bare, his skin flushed all the way down to his collarbones. you run your palms over his ribs, feeling the way his breath stutters and then you lean to kiss the centre of his chest, making him let out a quiet and broken sound. 

“so… you learnt a lot from my videos, you say?”, you ask against his skin.

seungmin nods his head, completely under your spell now.

“good”, you whisper, “then let’s put it to use”

you kiss him again, harder this time and then you walk him backwards until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. you push lightly on his chest and he sits, then lies down when you follow him onto the mattress. you settle on your back in the middle of the sheets, wearing nothing but the baby blue bra and the matching panties that you hadn’t worn on the stream before. the fabric already clings to you, the crotch visibly darker where you’ve soaked through and seungmin’s gaze drops straight to that wet patch and stays there, his lips parted and his cock visibly twitching inside his grey sweatpants. 

you spread your thighs a little wider, inviting him.

“do whatever you want with me, seungmin”, you say, “whatever you saw me do on camera. whatever you’ve been thinking about all this time”

he swallows hard and then crawls over you on shaky arms. his mouth finds yours again, messy and eager, his hips already rolling down against your thigh in unconscious thrusts. you let him grind against you for a moment, feeling how hard he is, but then you guide his head with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

seungmin kisses down your throat, across your collarbones, until he reaches the swell of your breasts. his fingers fumble with the bra before he finally opens it and then takes it off of you. he stares at you, his breathing ragged as his eyes stay on your nipples. he leans in and closes his mouth around one, sucking gently and shyly at first, then harder when you sigh and arch into him. his tongue flicks over it and you move your fingers to his hair, holding him there against you.

“that’s it”, you say, the praise warm in your voice, “suck a little harder- yes, just like that”

he moans around your nipple and then moves to the other breast, licking and sucking until both of your nipples are shiny and swollen, as he is completely lost in the taste of you. he moves lower, kissing a trail down your stomach and pressing his lips just above the waistband of your panties. the wet patch has grown and he stares at it before he lowers his head and kisses right over the soaked lace. the heat of his mouth makes you gasp and he does it again, open-mouthed this time, sucking the fabric and the slick underneath.

your hips jerk up and he groans, pressing his face harder against you, licking broad stripes over the lace until it’s completely drenched. 

“fuck, minnie”, you say, your fingers tightening in his hair, “that feels so good. keep going”

he sucks harder then, his tongue pressing the fabric into your folds, and you can feel every desperate noise he makes, every single move of his body against the bed. your thighs tremble around his head and he keep licking and sucking until the lace is dripping. he looks at you and when you nod your head, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and drags the panties down your legs with your help and the moment they’re off, he dives back in, his mouth sealing over your bare cunt now.

“f-fuck… seungmin”

his tongue is hot and eager, licking from your entrance up to your clit before circling there. you moan loud and unrestrained, your hips rolling against his face as he sucks your clit between his lips.

“such a good boy for me- yes, just like that. fuck… your mouth feels amazing”, you say.

seungmin whines against you, your words making him go crazy. he licks lower, pushing his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before returning to your clit, making you scream louder than before. one of his hands slides up your thigh and you feel two fingers press against your entrance. he hesitates at first but then he slides them inside you, stretching you open while his mouth keeps working your clit.

“don’t stop”, you gasp, your back arching off the bed, “i’m gonna come- seungmin, i’m gonna come on your tongue”

he moans desperately and sucks harder, his fingers curling until you finally shatter, your thighs shaking around his head as you ride his mouth through your orgasm. he doesn’t pull away, he licks you through it until you finally go limp, panting.

when you open your eyes, you look at him and find him still between your legs, his face shiny with your juices. but there’s something uneasy in his expression and you reach down and stroke his cheek.

“hey… what’s wrong?”, you ask him softly.

he looks at you shyly, then looks away, his cheeks burning. he moves a bit then and glances down at his own lap. you follow his gaze and you see the front of his grey sweatpants completely dark and soaked, a large wet patch spreading across the fabric. he came untouched, just from eating you out. you feel yourself clench again at the sight, fresh arousal dripping down your thigh. 

“that’s so fucking hot”, you tell him, your voice completely honest and sincere, “you came just from making me come? oh god, seungmin… come here”, you say as you reach for him.

he obeys you instantly, crawling up your body until his face is level with yours. you pull him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he moans into your mouth. your hands slide down his back, feeling the way he trembles under your touch, and you kiss him again, slower this time, letting him feel how much you want him. 

your tongues slide together, wet and hungry, both of you breathing hard. you can feel him already getting hard again against your thigh, the sticky mess in his clothes pressing against your skin. you moan into the kiss and he answers with a shaky whimper, completely lost in you.

your hand slips down between your bodies, sliding straight under the waistband of his sweatpants and into his boxers. the moment your fingers wrap around his cock, still sticky from his earlier orgasm, seungmin whines into your mouth, the sound high and needy. his hips jerk forward instinctively, pushing his cock into your palm as if he can’t help himself. you stroke him slowly at first, feeling how he gets hard again, the precum already beading at the tip one more time.

“y/n…”, he moans against your mouth.

“shh, it’s okay”, you murmur, “you’re such a good student, minnie. but i need to see what else you learnt from watching me”

you pump his cock with a firm rhythm, your thumb circling the sensitive tip on every stroke. his breath stutters and his forehead presses against yours as his hips roll into your hand chasing the friction.

you tug at his sweatpants with your free hand, “help me”

he scrambles to obey, lifting his hips so you can shove both his sweatpants and his boxers down his thighs. he kicks them off the rest of the way, leaving him completely naked now. the moment he’s free, he crawls over you again, settling between your spread legs and his cock, flushed and leaking, brushed against your inner thigh. he looks at you with wide and bright eyes, completely under your control, letting you do whatever you want with him.

you reach down and wrap your fingers around his cock again, guiding the tip to your entrance. 

“you ready?”, you ask him, your eyes locked on his.

seungmin just nods, desperate for you, and then he crashes his mouth back onto yours as you line him up. he pushes forward slowly, a bit unsure but so desperate and needy for you that he doesn’t care. a broken moan escapes him and he trembles above you, his arms shaking as he sinks deeper slowly. 

“you feel so good already, minnie. that’s it, take your time. you’re doing so well, my good boy”

he bottoms out with a shaky gasp, buried to the hilt inside you. his forehead drops to your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath, as he tries to stop himself from coming again already. you clench around him and he whimpers, his hips twitching. 

“y-y/n”, he says, his voice trembling.

“come on”, you whisper, nipping at his ear, “show me how much you learnt”

seungmin starts with slow and careful thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. each drag of his cock against your walls makes you moan and you encourage him with kisses and bites on his skin.

“harder. yes, just like that”, you say.

his pace gradually picks up, his hips snapping forward with growing confidence.

“f-fuck… you’re so tight”, he says, his voice breaking, “you feel so good”

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “don’t stop. fuck me harder seungmin, i wanna feel you”

he starts moving faster, the bed creaking beneath you. your hands roam his back, your nails dragging down his spine as he fucks you with increasing urgency. both of you are loud now, your cries mixing with his broken moans and desperate grunts. when he’s right on the edge, his hand slides between your bodies until his fingers find your clit and he rubs it the way he watched you do on the livestreams.

your orgasm crashes through you without warning then, making you cry out his name as your walls pulse around his cock. the tight squeeze pushes seungmin over too and you come together, both of you screaming and groaning as you break at the same time.

you both tremble together as you come down from your climaxes, breathing hard. he lies on top of you and you turn your head just enough to kiss him slowly, and when you pull back, a teasing smile curves your mouth.

“so… you couldn’t stop watching my videos, huh?”

his face burns and he tries to hide against your neck, but you just laugh softly and stroke his hair.

“congratulations on ruining my life”, he mumbles against your skin.

you laugh louder this time and move his head just enough to kiss him again.

“you’ve ruined me too, you know”, you say, before you lean in and peck his lips again, “but the good thing is that there’s still so much more i can teach you”, you say, pressing a kiss to his temple this time, “and i’m happy to, whenever you want”

he lifts his head, his eyes soft and shining, and he smiles before leaning in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, the perfect ending to his…

research.

a/n: our sweet puppy’s part is up!! again thank you all soooo much for all your love and support, i’m so happy you all love this series as much as i do 🩷 i hope you’re ready for what’s next: our sunshine brownie boy 😏

the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟

dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

I just want to receive love.

Ask any survival show contestant why they want to become an idol, and that’s the bullshit they’ll feed you with a wholesome smile, which is the politically correct way of saying, “I want to be worshipped.” No one even judges them for it because new gods on the block will always be in demand.

Fresh meat and whatnot, you know.

The only catch is you’re no longer allowed to worship anyone if you have worshippers yourself. Have you ever seen a god who simps for her own devotees?

Please.

If you “make it”, there is only one law you have to abide by—stick to your meticulously crafted persona and be generous with fanservice, and almost a decade into his career, Hyunjin hasn’t had a problem with it. He does study the faces of his “regulars” before he goes into fancalls. He does flirt a little extra with them at fansigns, holding their hands a little longer, a little tighter, less tsun more dere, even sharing little intimate details of his private life only they are privy to.

Well, allegedly.

That’s the least he can do for his off-the-books sugar mamas, no? He is a part of a grand romance scam after all.

It doesn’t mean he’s never struggled with keeping up the act, of course. With all the things he has to suppress, all the things he cannot scream at certain entitled brats’ faces, some days he does come very very close to snapping. What’d you expect? He is trapped in a life he hates doing something he loves.

Which is why it’s Stockholm as fuck that he’s found distraction from his delulu dealer duties by completely leaning into it.

It’s not even guilty, just pure pleasure for him to browse through fan work. As if he needs any more reasons to inflate his behemoth of an ego… Over time, his fandom has become a point of pride with him—so much talent scratching his Stendhal itch just right. The origin point doesn’t matter; the end result is still solid fucking art. It’s like he’s the Beatrice to a thousand Dantes.

Maybe “Like artist, like fan” does have some merit to it.

The literature department of his counterfeit Renaissance cult is where things get a little more unhinged. Some of these people write him so vividly, so intensely sexy that if Hyunjin could fuck himself, he would. It’s kinda disappointing that there is a strict hush-hush rule about fan spaces, which forces him to pretend he doesn’t know what a Kinktober is. Otherwise, he would have loved to send some flowers, signed merch, fucking fan club membership as a thank you for all the nuts busted. When the average market value for life-changing orgasms is in three to four digits, a cup of coffee seems criminally low.

Is it still sex work if someone makes you cum without touching you at all?

Among the sea of creators he religiously follows, of course he has favorites, and whoever goes by zipcode10320 tops that chart. He finds the hardcore shipping fucking hilarious, but he actually respects the preferred method of worship. The thirst might be heavy, but unlike the bitches practically living outside his apartment, it’s at least from a non-suffocating distance.

From a... distance...

anonymous asked: what if hyunjin is deadass reading you lol

A decade-long career with a fake boyfriend side hustle. Five restraining orders. Three court appearances. Endless blacklists…

Hyunjin lived to see the day where it’s the distance that suffocates him.

He never thought one day he’d find himself on the other side of the fence like this. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t tell what it is about this person he’s so hung up on. He has a battalion of authors writing about him, so what’s so special about this one? Is it a style thing? Is it the subject matter? Why is he looking forward to the next character he’ll play like it’s the next season of his favorite show? Why is he getting this ticklish feeling for no reason whenever he scrolls through a new drop in his bed? It’s as if the words are laced with something because he only feels it when he reads.

But what the fuck IS IT that he’s feeling?!

zipcode10320 replied: im pretty sure he has a life 🤣 on the super off chance that he does tho, hi bby save me from my misery and swipe my v-card plz 💋

Huh…

Well, now he knows.

So it wasn’t for no reason that he turned into a shark—there was blood in the water, and it reeked of the proverbial innocence. So all that lustful longing you keep writing… All that unhinged sex you keep depicting…

Is that…? How you want to be…? By him?

It’s too late when he realizes his fascination with the “art” has turned into something else entirely, but he can’t stop it. He just can’t! It’s in his every waking thought that someone out there loves him just a few drops shy of unconditionally, wanting him with lust so carnal that the desire can no longer stay inside its shell. It jumps into a getaway car with words for engine and fucks right off, all gas no brakes, because it has to get to him as fast as it can. It has to exist in the same corporeal realm as Hyunjin so it can call out to him. It’s in his every waking thought that a god out there compulsively conjures little Hyuniverses, unable to contain the fond smile whenever they doodle his name on a surface, be it cellulose or binary codes.

Hyunjin as a psycho.

Hyunjin as a prince.

Hyunjin as a psycho prince.

Hyunjin as the meaning of life.

Hyunjin as the meaning of MY life.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin.

HYUNJIN!!!

anonymous asked: if he asks you to give your virginity to him ur ACTUALLY gonna say yes? zipcode10320 replied: who tf says no to hwang hyunjin fucking BET!!! anonymous asked: what if he’s a freak tho zipcode10320 replied: if the freak is me getting sandwiched between hyunchan i volunteer as tribute thank 😌 anonymous asked: what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol zipcode10320 replied: even IM not that delulu bro cmon

Well, maybe you should get on his delulu level because there is some freak that needs to be matched here. It’s okay if you can’t right from the get-go; he has all the time in the world for you. He can show you everything. How to match it. How to get him there. How he will get you there. Everything. Everything you can imagine, he will teach you with utmost care.

But he needs to complete a little self-assigned mission first.

He starts bringing his notebook to every single fan event to take notes of his interactions. Mannerisms, tone of voice, clothes worn that day, some word that sticks out to him… Whenever someone asks what he’s writing so fervently, his go-to excuse is, “Things that inspire me before I forget”. He does show a few actual snippets to cover his tracks, and luckily, all he gets in response is dreamy sighs and, “Oh my god, you’re like sooo romantic!” instead of suspicious looks.

It’s called a “bias” for a reason.

It doesn’t matter if your face doesn’t show in your posts. He has all your notifications on, so every fancall or concert video you share, every photo captioned with “They don’t know I’m zipcode10320” goes straight to his “data” folder where he compares his “field notes”. It doesn’t take too long for him to finally put a face to the name, and the satisfaction of victory weirdly feels like afterglow. He doesn’t smoke, but he craves a cigarette all of a sudden.

His fascination with you mutates into infatuation so fast, he might just blurt out a marriage proposal next time he sees you.

He keeps waiting for you to pick up what he’s putting down, but you seem a bit too insistent with that godforsaken “respect to his personal space” thing. What personal space? There is no personal space when it comes to the two of you; don’t you get it? You need to occupy the exact same space so he can be where he’s meant to be. As your very first. As your very last. So he can be your muse for the rest of your life. Can you even imagine the stories he’ll inspire you to tell if you spend just one night with him?

Don’t get it twisted, that’s just a figure of speech. He can’t and won’t settle for anything less than a couple of hundred nights with you. You know, to teach. So that the freak can match perfectly in the finale.

Unfortunately for him, the news of the iceberg arrives before he can finish packing for the maiden voyage, and for the first time ever, Hyunjin wishes he was blind so he wouldn’t be able to read your words.

zipcode10320 guys im this 🤏 close to ulting the shit out of chris hes been wrecking me left and right this comeback SEND HALP

Oh, you just… Oh, you fucking did not…

Really? That’s the extent of your loyalty? One whore goes Magic Mike, and all of a sudden you’re wrecked? Did the memories you shared mean jack shit to you? Weren’t you the one going on and on about him being your muse just YESTERDAY?!

Oh, you’re gonna get wrecked alright.

“Jiwon, do you have an NDA copy on hand?” Hyunjin addresses the driver in the front seat, his eyes still glued to his phone.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he opens his contacts and dials a number. “Turn the car around.”

“Where to, sir?”

“I’ll tell you in a bit.”

The car completes the U-turn after the third ringback tone, and a trollmeister voice answers the call on the other end.

“Yo, Hyunzales.”

“Where are you?”

“Fucking your girl in the backseat of my car.”

“I know you’re ragebaiting, but do you want to?”

The elongated silence on the line lets Hyunjin know that the hunter was successfully hunted. He softly chuckles to himself, amused by his triumph.

“Pussy got your tongue, motherfucker?”

“You’d actually give the fic girl to me?” Chris asks for good measure, his rabid giddiness spilling all over his voice.

“Calm the fuck down. No one said anything about giving you stuff,” Hyunjin sternly corrects. “I’m just inviting you to come play.”

“You’re the pettiest, most possessive man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing, and that includes the GOAT Joe Goldberg,” Chris starts a mini interrogation to do his due diligence. “If there is a chance for you to hit that yourself, how come you’re inviting me?”

“You fucking know why. I don’t trust myself,” he admits. “It’s not a random hookup. Bin’s hosting an opening ceremony tonight, and I want her there.”

“No fucking way…”

“Deadest of asses,” Hyunjin finally releases the death grip on his lips and lets them curl. “Meet me at his place if you’re interested. Otherwise, I’ll risk it all and go solo.”

“Race you there, fuckface.”

When the call disconnects, Hyunjin takes a deep breath to calm… his nerves? And well, his residual annoyance—he can’t be in that kinda headspace right now. He closes his eyes, and just the thought of your surprise is enough to put him in a good mood. He pulls up your profile again and presses play on the video from the concert two months ago, fondly smiling as he listens to you scream at the top of your lungs, “I’LL SIGN THE NDA, HYUNJIN, JUST ONE CHANCE!!!”

“Well, you said it yourself, beautiful,” he turns to his right, watching the nightlights pass by the tinted window. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

You blankly look at the man’s face for a solid ten seconds, unsure if you’ve heard it right, because there ain’t no way…

“Just to triple confirm,” you briefly squeeze your eyes close. “We’re talking about the performer Hwang Hyunjin, right?”

“Yes.”

“The art harlot Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Yes.”

“The Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Just assume every adjective you can think of is true, but if we could get to the matter at hand, please,” the man sighs, rapidly losing patience. “Mr. Hwang strongly wishes for your companionship tonight.”

cOmPaNiOnSh— What?

How would the man, the myth, the legend himself, the only baby daddy you’d be willing to accept, Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin even know you? This has to be a hidden camera prank or something!

As you suspiciously look the man up and down, however, you’re struggling to hold onto your prank theory. The weirdly familiar butler-henchman hybrid guy is clad in a crisp Dior suit, his nails are perfectly manicured, and his hair is so neatly coiffed that bro can walk a runway if he wants. Now you’re trying to logically explain why someone would send a man like this to locate you at this hour. Maybe if they are bored enough? But what entertainment can possibly come out of interrupting a plain mortal’s cocktail hour with their friends?

WHY would a Diorland resident want to locate YOU in the first place? There is literally NO possibility of your paths ever crossing!

“Wait, you’re in every single fansite picture when Hyunjin attends a public event,” Mina points at him, her face contorting with her revelation. “You’re Kim Jiwon, aren’t you?”

“I am,” the man acknowledges.

“How do you even know this guy?” you turn to Mina.

“Girl, even you know him,” she answers with a content smile. “He’s Hyunjin’s bodyguard.”

As you let out a long “Ohhh…”, it finally clicks in your mind why he seems so familiar. He pulls something out from the inside pocket of his blazer and clicks a silver pen.

“I’ve been told this was your own request,” he hands you an envelope containing a single sheet of paper. “You need to sign it before I can take you to him.”

There ain’t NO WAY…

You can see the words, but your brain refuses to process them. That’s it; you’ve been fangirling so hard that it has finally given you permanent brain damage, and now you’re hallucinating worse than ai. At least, that was how you were planning to plead insanity.

But the “OH MY GOD!”s raising from the table confirm that your friends can also see the title reads “Non-Disclosure Agreement”.

“Please don’t. This document contains sensitive information,” he snatches the paper from the prying eyes before they can commit it to memory, and points at the bottom. “If you won’t be signing it, please let me know right now, so I can relay it to Mr. Hwang. This is a time-sensitive issue.”

“T–Time-sensitive?!” you widen your eyes. “Can’t I at least tell my friends where I’m going so they know I’m safe?”

“No, you can’t, but I’m obligated to ensure your protection just as much as Mr. Hwang’s,” he indirectly informs the table. “This isn’t a job offer, so there is nothing to contemplate here. It’s just a promise that you will be discreet about the time you will be spending in Mr. Hwang’s company. Yes or no.”

Yet another “OH MY GOD!” erupts from the table, and by then, Jiwon is at his limit. Before he rescinds the invitation altogether, you lunge at the document telling you to shut the fuck up and sign it. You don’t have one logical answer as to how the Hwang Hyunjin knows you, or why he, quote, “strongly wishes for your companionship”. But the three Cosmopolitans in your bloodstream convince you that making shady deals in the middle of a restaurant is a great idea. And that you will regret it if you don’t go all in tonight.

Whatevs, if anything goes off the rails, you’ll just scream bloody murder, and his career will be over before he can spell “handwritten apology”.

“If I don’t send a thumbs up within 15 minutes, call the police,” you quietly scheme with Mina as you take your sweet time gathering your belongings. “If I do send a thumbs up, call a mortician because his sheer hotness will fucking kill me.”

You follow Jiwon to the valet area, barely registering that he’s just opened the door to a Rolls-Royce Phantom for you. It’s a true test of willpower not to yell “SHUT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK UP!” as you get into the disgustingly smug flex all over Hyunjin’s socials. So it’s true. It’s actually true. You are being taken to the only man ever. For whatever fucking reason…

WHO CARES?!

You make it to the mystery venue in just under five minutes. As he accompanies you to the elevator, Jiwon hands you what looks like a gold-plated card, instructing you to just swipe it to reach your intended destination. So you do. With a thousand butterflies in your stomach, and still only half-believing that you’re about to appear before His Majesty.

Once you get out of that cabin, you can only see one large door at the end of the hallway. A light breeze of music leaks into the carpet-clad corridor. The distance you need to walk suddenly seems like miles long, and the entire time, you keep repeating to yourself, “What am I doing? What am I doing? What the ACTUAL FUCK am I doing?!”, which is entirely pointless considering you’ve already made it this far. Might as well see what’s behind door number two.

Well, door number 4001, to be exact.

Standing in front of the heavy-looking oak, you take the deepest breath of your life and ring the doorbell, your group chat still open in your hand just in case. After a ten-second silence, it finally opens.

Your knees damn near give way when you make eye contact with your greeter.

“Hey, beautiful,” the only man ever leans against the door frame with that sultry smile you know too well. “Remember me?”

You quickly send a thumbs-up emoji to the group chat and shove the phone inside your bag, having no idea what to do with yourself. It’s him. The man who stuns you when he just breathes, the man who has sheer grace and absolute harlotry running in his veins instead of blood is right there smiling at you. It’s REALLY him!

It is really him, but something is not.

Every memory you have of him suddenly flashes before your eyes. Every “private” moment you were lucky enough to share, the handholding, the small talks about his personal work, the eggplant lasagna jokes… All were so soft, so comfortable, and it was like that by design. Even though he knew your name, you were fully aware that this man was at work. That “See? I remember intimate details about you because you’ve made a mark on me” shtick was the first line of his job description. These guys were probably handed a study pack full of attendee information before those events anyway.

But right this moment, not even a shred of the sentimental soft boi is present in his demeanor. Eyes darkened, pupils dilated, posture relaxed, cunningly smirking. The man standing at door number 4001 isn’t Hwang Hyunjin.

It’s the fucking DEVIL!

“Uh… I feel like I need to make sure, just in case,” you shake your head to snap out of it. “You are aware I’m not an escort, right?”

“Why would you even say that?” he furrows his brows.

“I signed a document that says you want my companionship for an opening ceremony tonight?”

He’s so amused, he starts laughing, and you die a little bit. That part is at least the same. When he laughs, your heart still goes into overdrive.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he answers.

“How do you… even know me?” you hesitantly ask, making sure your tone wouldn’t make him think you’re displeased by the invitation. “I couldn’t come up with one reason why you of all people would look for me.”

But the way his face falls, he must be offended. You panic, trying to find ways to explain yourself and what you really meant by that. That he is a god walking among mortals, that you’re one of the aforementioned mortals, and that it just doesn’t make any sense why he wouldn’t summon a fellow goddess instead.

“See, I’m a glass-half-full kind of man,” he speaks through a sigh as he slowly approaches, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Some might say your zip code starts with 103. I say it ends with 320.”

No.

No, there ain’t NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY…

How is that even POSSIBLE?! How many degrees of separation have you been from Hyunjin all this time? Does one of your followers just HAPPEN to know him somehow? Then what, did they just show him the fucking embarrassing amounts of delusion? Did he at least get a good laugh out of it?

Seems a bit too late to deactivate now…

“Well, you asked for it yourself, didn’t you?” he chortles, lifting your chin. “You signed the NDA. Now’s your one chance.”

How are you still not passing out?

Fuck the how, he knows. He knows about it all, and you have never been this mortified about something in your damn LIFE! Your shame brute-forces its way into the main control room of your brain and disables all your cognitive functions.

You can’t think of ONE thing to say to him!

“Unless… You’d rather it was someone else instead,” he cocks a brow at your silence. “Someone who’s been wrecking you recently?”

“I… I–I’m… I don’t…”

The door he left ajar behind him opens again, and another familiar face peeks out, flashing you a pair of heart-stopping dimples.

“Fucking hot,” Chris bites his lips, resting his chin on Hyunjin’s shoulder while staring at you. “Lucked out with this one, huh, Hyun?”

WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN GOING ON RIGHT NOW?

Where did he come from all of a sudden? What does it all mean? And why is this whole thing starting to feel like a fujoshi trap?!

“It’s just a party,” Hyunjin reassuringly smiles, caressing your cheek as if to calm you down. “We’ll hang out, talk, have a couple of drinks, that kinda thing.”

He holds your hand and presses his lips on your wrist for at least a solid five seconds, deeply inhaling your scent, then looks at you with dreamy eyes.

“But if the fancy strikes,” he steps aside, gently pushing you from your waist to lead you in, “we can always party a little harder.”

Incredulous that you are actually flanked by your very own OTP, you walk into the gigantic suite where the chatter of the crowd melts into the music. You recognize a lot of these faces because it’s crawling with idols inside, but the sight is the furthest thing from variety show cutesiness. Their claim holds up. It is a party.

They just forgot to tell you what kind.

The front end is “frat”. Two fandoms are amidst a vicious fanwar online, yet their “oppas” are heavily broing it out, all clearly intoxicated, laughing their asses off as two of the bunch are trying to do body shots off of each other.

Whereas the back end is “swinger”. Socials are filled with snark about who paved the way, yet the younger artists are busy teaching their seniors how to eat their pussies properly. No one cares that they are in the presence of a crowd—they are going at it.

“How’d you like the cesspit black hole of bubblegum pop?” Chris asks, plopping down next to you on the giant sectional by the window, and hands you a glass of vodka on the rocks. “Not giving ‘ending fairy’ at all, yeah?”

“You don’t say,” you raise your brows. “Feels like I passed through an underworld portal just now.”

“So…” Hyunjin flings an arm around your shoulder, comfortably spreading his legs. “You’re a shipper.”

Your drink almost comes out of your nose with panic-slash-fluster. THAT’S how he chooses to bring it up?!

“It’s just entertainment,” you play it cool, trying to choose your words carefully. “I don’t actually believe you are in a relationship.”

“Even when we live together?”

“That’s not proof of anything.”

“Even when we shower together?” Chris presses. “Stuck in hotel rooms together for months on tour…”

“Everybody knows that’s a convenience thing when you’re strapped for time,” you refute.

“But what if Hyunchan is real, and we’re laughing our asses off hiding in plain sight?” he looks you up and down, annoyingly smirking. “Post a picture of me giving him head right now, and haters will still say it’s fanservice.”

“Didn’t you see the pepero thing?” Hyunjin chimes in. “He’s the only one I almost made out with, and our parents were in the audience, mind you.”

Before you catch on goddamn fire, you have to force quit the fangirling and put your rational thinking into overdrive QUICK! What are they even after, having a weird ship conversation about themselves out of nowhere? It’s almost like they are trying to convince you it’s real, but even if they do, what’s going to possibly come out o—

Oh.

Oh, okay.

Okay, so it’s just a random jackpot thing. They saw your stuff, picked you as a target, and this is how they’re “getting even” by humiliating you to your face. Ha ha, very funny…

“Alright, message received,” you sigh in defeat, your mood suddenly bitter. “Do you want me to apologize in writing, or—?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not mad about that at all,” Hyunjin quickly interjects. “I canceled a porn subscription because of you. I goon to your stuff a lot.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP NO YOU FUCKING DO NOT!!!”

You scream at his face out of pure reflex, but everyone in the vicinity is so faded that no one even hears it. Well, except for Chris who folds in half howling with laughter.

“Ask him,” Hyunjin points at the yang to his yin extremely seriously. “What was I doing just last night?”

“I’m gonna be a gentleman and say he was reading the latest drop, but he changed his sheets at 2 a.m. Do the math,” Chris corroborates while wiping the tears from his eyes. “So yeah, can confirm he’s not mad. Mad horny, maybe”

“But…” Hyunjin snuggles up to you, speaking directly into your ear. “I am mad about something else.”

“W–What did I do?” you turn your head to face him, almost brushing against his lips.

“What is it about me that you don’t like anymore?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

“WHAT?!”

“It’s the haircut, isn’t it?” he tsks in disappointment. “You find it off-putting.”

“Absolutely not! Where did that even come from?!”

“Then how fucking come you’re wrecked so easily after all these years? I thought we had something.”

The course of the night is quite disorienting as it is. Then he goes ahead and says all that in a single breath, fire shooting out of his eyes as if you’ve cussed out the entire Hwang bloodline. He sounds more delulu than all fics in existence combined, yet he’s dead serious, legitimately demanding an answer from you.

You’re so dumbfounded, you can’t produce a single coherent thought!

“Fine,” Hyunjin pulls out his phone and shows you the screen. “Read it. Out loud.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake…

If you can get an ETA on when you can vanish, please, because the self-cringe of looking at your own blog is suf–fo–ca–ting! Nevertheless, it suddenly doesn’t seem entirely implausible to you that these two may indeed be dying laughing at the fanservice defenders. If you posted about this very moment right now, no one would ever believe you, either, would they?

Mad imagination, bro. 12/10 gooned. Have my reblog.

You sigh in exasperation, trying to dissociate from the fact that those are your own words on the screen, and start reading.

“Guys, I’m this cl—”

“No,” Hyunjin stops you with the tone of an insufferable director. “With feeling.”

Are you unknowingly auditioning for something, or…?

You try to remember what you were doing when you rabidly typed this nonsense and yeeted it into the void of the interwebs. Some teaser pictures had dropped, so it wasn’t even anything that deep. Just plain, good ol’ thirst for normal people, but treason-level betrayal by a certain kiwi’s insane biasing standards.

And nothing less than a recommittal blood oath will convince him of your loyalty, apparently.

“Guys, I’m this close to ulting the shit out of Chris. He’s…” you pause to chase some of the cringe with a sip of vodka. “He’s been wrecking me left and right this comeback.”

“I know, right?” Chris cheeses at you, then mimics Hyunjin’s earlier tone. “It’s the bench press thirst traps, isn’t it?”

“All of it,” Hyunjin demands. “Don’t stop at the best part now.”

Real talk? You’d rather endure the ship interrogation than this medieval-adjacent self-reflection moment. Maybe they used to make witches read their own fics aloud, too, who knows?

“Send help,” you punctuate your unhinged diary entry with an eye roll and hand him his phone back.

“Well then.”

He suddenly pulls you close from your waist, shifting you to straddle his lap. The sight must be a little too satisfying, the way his jaw drops watching you sit on your new throne, breathing heavily as he runs his hands up your waist.

“Help,” he brushes two fingers down your cleavage, “has arrived.” 

It doesn’t feel real at all. You’re so close to him that if you move forward just an inch, you can kiss him. In your absence, Chris moves right next to Hyunjin and starts lazily stroking your legs, smiling to himself as he watches goosebumps spread on your skin in slow motion.

“Be honest with me,” Hyunjin puts a hand on your cheek, pointing at Chris with a nod. “Do you wish it was him touching you instead?”

“That’s not what I meant when I said—”

“Look, I get why you might have slipped for a moment,” he interrupts, holding Chris’s face between his thumb and index fingers. “Just look at him. He’s so hot, fucking pisses me off sometimes.”

“Pisses you off, my ass,” Chris scoffs with a snort. “Tell that to your dick standing at attention every time I get out of the shower.”

“Not the time to air our dirty laundry,” Hyunjin turns off the black box, then turns to you. “But if you’re really sorry for abandoning me—”

“I didn’t abandon you!” you protest.

“You did, and it broke my heart,” he instantly denies your appeal, his expression somehow crestfallen and quietly enraged at the same time. “Or are you not sorry at all?”

“I am sorry for upsetting you, but not for abandoning you,” you respond. “Because I didn’t.”

“But you are sorry.”

“I am.”

“Then,” he slowly drags a strap of your dress down your shoulder, “show me how much.”

“T–There are people here,” you quickly grab his hand.

“Of course there are,” he purses his lips. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be a ceremony.”

“Just what the hell is this ceremony for?” you crease your brows. “I haven’t seen one ribbon getting cut.”

“Just because they aren’t in your face doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” he responds with a grin. “You asked me to save you from your misery, remember?”

what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol

Your face changes when it finally starts to sink in.

You look around, and that’s when you see the room for the first time. There are clusters of people spread all over the place, each with a “focal point” amidst them. Depending on the kind of lens you have, you can claim they are being worshipped, pleasured, or entirely humiliated.

Only then does it dawn on you that the “opening ceremony”, at least the one held on this side of the room, is of you.

“Don’t avert your eyes,” Hyunjin holds your face with the kind of tenderness that does not belong to the salacious backdrop. “Look at me.”

And look, you do.

You see two men before you, their gaze somewhat soft but not because it bears any wholesome intent. It’s a tiger and a wolf sitting side by side, and the only reason they don’t snarl is not to spook the gazelle. Otherwise, you can see the drool pooling in their mouth. The intent doesn’t seem entirely nefarious, either, but you have lowered inhibitions and complete heart eyes for them, so… Not exactly the beacon of sound judgement.

When Hyunjin starts pulling you in, the remaining crumbs of sound judgement evacuate the building anyway.

“Kiss the lips you keep writing about,” he quietly demands.

Your life temporarily ends when he takes your lips within his. It’s not like your makeout scoreboard is completely blank, but you’ve never felt anything like this before. The man doesn’t kiss; he attempts to pour himself into your body, then permeate every single corner until he completely possesses you.

Divide and Hwangquer.

“Feeling a little neglected here,” Chris interrupts. “No kisses for me?”

That pout paired with the puppy eyes gives you a little cuteness aggression. You steal a glance from Hyunjin, trying to gauge how upset he’d be if you kissed Chris, but he beats you to it. He just knows you’ll prefer the “fanservice” over a stupid membership card anyway. Now he can thank you for all the sheets he ruined in a single installment.

He grabs Chris by the nape and fucking goes for it, showing you what you would have seen if he had finished that pepero to completion. It makes you wanna combust that their rhythm seems so memorized. It’s pure muscle memory. If these demons had a side hustle where they made out to entertain an audience, the entire community would find out the day they created an account. Not even the most devout “It’s fanservice!” supremacist can explain how two people can know each other’s hot spots this well if they haven’t found them firsthand.

FUCK, IT’S TRUE THEN?!

As Hyunjin languidly grinds against you, he unbuttons Chris’s pants and frees his cock, making him whimper when he wraps his long fingers around him. You can’t control the throb between your legs when you hear that sound, and of course Hyunjin notices, breaking into a diabolical smile.

He channels his attention to you again, this time meeting no resistance when he reaches for the strap of your dress. He takes the left side while Chris takes the right, both men savoring the fuck out of unwrapping the present they treated themselves to. The tiger and the wolf can no longer hide their intent, openly showing their teeth as they stare at your bare chest. As if they communicate with telepathy, each sucks on a nipple at the same time, the same way they make out with each other. Loud. Messy.

Wet.

When you run your fingers through his hair, Chris looks up and makes eye contact with you. He lets go of your nipple and reaches for your face, demanding his kiss. They both melt within your lips, but it’s like night and day. Hyunjin kisses like a Sunday morning—slow and lazy, deep sighs, soft touches because you have all the time in the world. Whereas Chris is like a quickie you know you shouldn’t have—fast and passionate, heavy breathing, firm gropes because you are strapped for time before you get busted.

But both set your body on fire just the same.

Hyunjin stops when he realizes there’s a makeout session going on over his head and starts kissing your neck, fondling everything he can reach. Shortly after, you feel a hand on your inner thighs caressing you. Then it moves up. More. A bit more. It makes you shudder when it reaches the dampened fabric gatekeeping your wetness.

“So, you’re saying,” Hyunjin unzips his pants and lets his cock hang, “if I dip my tongue in there, I’ll be the first ever to taste you?”

“Y–Yes,” you barely manage to answer, wits barely intact.

“You wouldn’t… lie to me, would you?” he squints with suspicion.

Then something you can’t quite explain happens.

Hyunjin looks the same, but his demeanor feels… sinister, almost. It’s like there is a very specific answer to his question, and if you can’t get it exactly right, there will be consequences. The problem is, you can’t tell if he’s roleplaying or if his personality is actually changing right before your eyes.

If the tiger snarls that loudly, obviously it will spook the gazelle.

“Of course not,” Chris intervenes with the wholesomest smile, his voice softer than cumulus clouds. “She would never do that to you.”

“She said she loved me, but it didn’t stop her from having eyes for you,” Hyunjin stares daggers at him. “How do I know she’s telling the truth this time?”

“Hyun, you’re scaring her.”

Hyunjin swiftly turns to you, and when you make eye contact, his rigid scowl suddenly disappears. He averts his eyes like he’s ashamed, but the pout doesn’t go anywhere.

It’s like you’re trying to communicate with a stubborn kid.

“If I hurt you so much,” you softly utter, tilting your head to look into his eyes, “would you like me to leave?”

He immediately grabs your hand like you’re going to vanish otherwise, his eyes widened like saucers. Chris giggles at his reaction and wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s waist behind him.

“You just loooove being a mega spoiled brat, don’t you?” he nibbles on Hyunjin’s earlobe, then flashes his mega reassuring dimples at you. “Asking for a kiss like a normal person is too pedestrian for our prince, so he has to make a scene.”

You thought he was fucking around when he said he was heartbroken earlier, but he looks it. You are so confused, and nothing makes sense to you, but a part of you feels weirdly privileged to witness whatever is going on.

“Come closer,” Chris invites you, placing open-mouth kisses on Hyunjin’s neck. “Let’s pacify him a bit.”

You hold Hyunjin’s hands and put them on your waist, then pull him into a kiss. As soon as your lips touch, he immediately starts melting, and you can feel his body go limp in your arms. He softly moans into you, one hand on your face, the other holding Chris’s hand behind him.

“Do you really love me?” he asks with a pout.

“I came here tonight because Mr. Hwang asked for me,” you affirm. “There was no mention of Chris.”

“Will you stop loving him then?”

“Will you?” you raise your brows, unwittingly laughing. “Don’t ask me for things you don’t have the balls to do.”

“Will you at least stop biasing him then?”

“What’s happening to you?” you smile through your creased brows, strangely endeared.

“Nothing, baby. It’s his dinner time, and he gets very groggy when he doesn’t eat,” Chris answers on his behalf, looking at you knowingly. “So you might wanna feed him now.”

Hyunjin doesn’t lose another second and gently pushes you to lie on your back, comfortably settling between your legs. He has zero patience left to take the teasing route, but still tries his best to hold it together and not rip your underwear off altogether.

“Oh, you so wanna shove it in there already, don’t you?” Chris chuckles, seeing Hyunjin practically drool at the amount of slick.

“Fucking look at this, my god,” Hyunjin bites his lips hard.

“Rock paper scissors?” Chris extends his hand.

“Oh, fuck you, I have bias privileges,” Hyunjin slaps it away. “Dibs on everything.”

“Yes, you do, but you will do my requests, right?

You kinda wanna slap Chris when Hyunjin stops two millimeters away from your pussy and looks up at him. It’s so strange that he seems to only listen to Chris and do everything he says with blind obedience, as if he doesn’t have a mind of his own.

Huh…

“What do you want?”

“How about you get her suuuper wet first,” Chris speaks, dragging Hyunjin’s lip down with his thumb, “then double cream her?”

They smirk at each other, and you almost die because WHAT EVEN IS THIS INSANE DYNAMIC?! They’ve done this before for sure; the correct question is JUST HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES?

“I’m just gonna borrow her a bit so I can cum faster, okay?” Chris gives a quick peck on Hyunjin’s lips. “She still only loves you.”

“I know,” Hyunjin tries to play it cool, but massively fails when he can’t help his smile.

“And I only love you, too.”

FUCK—THIS!!!

You suddenly forget where you are and what you’re about to do, barely stopping yourself from shedding happy tears, because what other proof do you need here, really?

fAnSeRvIcE, my ass!

“I guess it’s only fair that I warn you about this,” Hyunjin licks his lips with sheer hunger, spreading your legs wide.

“A–About what?”

“That no one’s gonna compare to me after tonight. You’ll live the rest of your life looking for me in everyone you fuck,” he smirks big. “So maybe don’t even bother fucking them in the first place.”

You inadvertently arch into him with a gasp when he finally graces you with that first lick, grabbing onto Chris lying by your side. It’s such an unfamiliar, brand-new feeling, and it spreads all over your body faster than a pandemic. So wet. So warm. Dangerously addictive. Unfathomable that someone could have this kind of appetite for you one day, but there you have it in technicolor. And out of all people it could possibly be, it’s Hwang Hyunjin.

The only man ever.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” you let slip unbeknownst to yourself.

“Mpf…”

You sink your fingers deeper into Chris when Hyunjin moans into your pussy. The vibrations feel so nice. It’s like an ‘achievement unlocked’ moment—when you talk to him, he reacts.

And he reacts good.

“Feels good, yeah? Now we’re gonna do the same with you,” Chris gets on his knees and presses his cock on your lips. “Open your mouth for me.”

You don’t exactly understand why, but you’re starting to relate to Hyunjin. For whatever reason, when Chris says something, you just do, no questions asked.

You take him into your mouth, but he doesn’t move for a while, just enjoying the sensation as he watches Hyunjin work wonders on your pussy. The man is gone, eating like he’s been starved to death, and when he realizes Chris is watching, he stops sucking, spreads your lips, and makes a complete show of flicking his tongue on your clit as fast as he can.

You’ve heard of chain reaction crashes before, but only now do you understand how they work. Hyunjin licks your soul out of you, you moan louder, and it somehow manifests itself within Chris’s body even though he’s fucking your face. It’s as if you’re just a vessel connecting the two lovers, and Hyunjin pleasures Chris through you.

If you can choose your own death, this is your preferred way to go.

“Oh, FUCK, sorry baby, borrowing your man for a bit,” Chris hurriedly pulls out and rushes to Hyunjin. “I’m about to explode. Fucking finish me!”

Hyunjin gets on his knees, fervently stroking Chris until he unloads a hefty load all over his cock. It’s unclear whether it’s Chris or you who’s about to pass out when he cums because you’ve never seen something this hot in your entire life.

“Do it now,” Chris flashes a fucked out smile. “Before it dries.”

Hyunjin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and aligns himself with your entrance. As his precum mingles with Chris’s drops at the tip, you see the tiger has fully murderous intent now, groaning loudly even though he very very shallowly thrusts into you, only a knuckle deep. Literally just the tip, barely holding himself back from ramming himself into you with how deliciously slippery you are.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you when you flinch a bit. “I’ll be very gentle.”

“Why? I didn’t ask you to.”

The two men look at each other and flash the most evil smiles you’ve seen anyone flash.

“Jackpot,” Chris sinks his teeth into his lips.

“Lick her clit so she gets tighter around me,” Hyunjin demands, then looks deep into your eyes. “We’ll see how you like me now.”

“Ah, FUCK!”

You said it yourself. You said so many things yourself. How you were this obsessed with him. How you wanted him to break you in. How you wanted just one chance in exchange for an NDA. And now not to be gentle with you. You’re right, why should he? It’s not like you’re made of glass. You’re a big girl, you can take it.

He’s just complying with your wishes here.

“Your eyes are rolling back,” Hyunjin clenches his teeth, maniacally laughing. “Go ahead. Go ahead and fall back in love with me.”

All you can make is incoherent noises while he sinks into your deepest spots, Chris’s tongue gliding all over your clit. This is it. This is how you go certifiably insane, if not die altogether. Not even the worst fantasies your mind has ever conjured can compare to this, and in your heart of hearts, you know Hyunjin is right. No one’s gonna compare to him, to them, after this, and you have no idea how you’re supposed to go on with your life.

If only there was a way that… If only…

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m about t— HYUNJIN!!!”

As you let out a sound you didn’t even know you were capable of making, both men pin you in your place, forcing you to just let the pleasure in. In all your years of self-pleasuring, you have never reached a high this surreal, tearing your soul from your body, and you just know that after tonight, you never will. Squeezing him to death within your walls, you shove Hyunjin into his atom-rearranging orgasm, and his load is so heavy that you can feel every single drop he shoots inside you.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin is so happy he got to be your first that he could die.

“Are you in love with me again?” he nuzzles against your neck once he comes back enough to be able to speak words.

“If I say yes, will you stop obsessing over this?”

“I’m not promising anything.”

You flash him the most fucked out smile. He smiles back. Your heart swells in your chest to the point of combustion when you see his dimples.

“Then no, I’m not,” you stroke his kiwi hair. “Try again.”

He’s not in the least bit offended. If anything, this is the closest he’s been to fansign Hyunjin the entire night, his chuckle making your heart go into overdrive.

“Now that the official ceremony is over,” Chris gets up and starts putting his clothes on, “let’s bounce.”

“Are you really gonna make us move right now?” Hyunjin whines.

“Of fucking course, I am!” Chris scowls, incredulous that Hyunjin would even dare say something like this. “I still need to fuck her, and all our toys are back home.”

❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to make Hyunchan bias you.

This is a one shot. There is no part two.

「© 2026, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

📋 Permanent taglist (Form here if you wish to join): @straywrds @lee-omens-fics @skzfelixlove @surreallyst-void @krayzieestay @tirena1 @idiotmaterial @vvamp3 @tsunderelino @stayjinnie @dessianna1 @palindrome969 @unimportantweirdo @vixensss @homelessmeowmeow @birdiebangsworld @biribarabiribbaem @compersian @wobblewobble822 @pixie-felix @ariaaleelynn @littlestcheese @angelbabygremlin @whatifthisaintreal @akindaflora @ebnabi @hyunjinsicecream @lvnanazz @pinkflowerdream @binniewalrus @agalitzine @4lndr17 @sfiakamo @jinx4karma @yonglixswifeyy